Not Ready to Make Nice
by Cheshire6845
Summary: Post Endgame. They made it home, but can you ever really go home again?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I don't own them, but I do like to make them still feel useful.

**Notes:** A huge thanks goes out to my Awesome beta QS for painstakingly putting up with my commas or lack thereof and to Maja for consenting to do a read-through and so nicely pointing out my inappropriate spacing. The both of you Rock! This story was inspired by two things...both of which I'll tell you about when it's all over.

Yes, I'm posting in parts, but rest assured that it will not go unfinished because it already is with the exception of daily tweaks and changes. The plan is to post daily and it's a little less than 50,000 words so probably won't take too long. Hope you enjoy!

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**Not Ready to Make Nice by Cheshire**

Kathryn Janeway studied the colorful collage in front of her. It was looking good. All of the flowers she had planted and babied for the past six months were finally showing progress. It was about time. Tucking a strand of wayward auburn hair behind her ear, she turned to the patch of dirt behind her. Now if only her tomatoes would cooperate.

Apparently, she'd only really been able to cultivate that particular produce on New Earth because she sure wasn't having any luck with this year's crop. She didn't know what else she could possibly do for them, and they weren't even Talaxian. She frowned. Maybe that was the problem. One more alien species that she'd gotten along with better than her own people.

A klaxon sounded, and Kathryn looked up. She hadn't realized it was so late in the evening. Gathering up her gardening tools and giving her tomatoes one last scowl, Kathryn headed towards the main building at the center of the property. A young ensign that she hadn't seen before gaped at her as she passed through the main entrance.

"Must be a newbie."

Kathryn turned and smiled at the rather large Bajoran woman that had appeared at her side. "Nice to know I can still turn heads," she quipped.

"Damn straight," the Bajoran snorted and then eyed her shrewdly. "You are going to go down to dinner, aren't you?"

"Yes," Kathryn sighed. She really liked Tenel Bor, but the woman's mother hen tendencies sometimes annoyed her. She needed to change the subject before the woman really got going. "Is your son coming up tomorrow?"

The other woman's face lit up. "Yes, and he's bringing the new grandbaby this time."

"Good." Kathryn tried to look happy for Tenel, but an unexpected pang squeezed her heart. She motioned vaguely to the upper hall. "I'm just going to go put these things in my room, and then I'll be down."

"Your skinny ass needs to eat," Tenel muttered loudly, turning to go the opposite direction.

Nodding at another one of the Starfleet personnel, Kathryn made her way up to the small room that she currently called home. Four walls, a small bathroom, a single bed, and some pictures on the wall were all she had these days, but at least it was semi-private. She took a moment to try and regain her equilibrium.

The "grandbaby" comment had taken her by surprise. It seemed as though every time she'd accepted that she had no chance at having her own family, something always brought it back to the forefront. She shook her head at herself and moved towards the small sink to wash her face and hands before she went down to dinner.

After all, spending the next ten years at the Starfleet Minimum Security Rehabilitation Center for Women wasn't really going to allow for things like starting a family.

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Y

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Yes, I know...it's short and I'm evil but it's just a teaser. I promise the rest of the parts will be longer so I hope you'll stick with me.


	2. Chapter 2

_Notes: If you've read the book _Battle for Betazed, _my version of events doesn't hold quite true to theirs - but only minor changes._

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**Ch.1 **

The tomatoes were finally starting to perk up. Each plant had grown several centimeters, and Kathryn couldn't be happier about their progress. She intended for them to get even better. Dropping the heavy bag of fertilizer from her shoulder, she straightened slowly, stretching her back, and that was when she saw them. Two men in Starfleet uniforms heading in her direction, both wearing command red instead of the facility's more familiar security gold. She studied them for a moment before turning back to her fertilizer, ripping the bag open, and settling herself on the ground to begin working it into her garden soil.

It didn't take long for the men to reach her side. "Well, Kathryn, I must say those plants are looking better than the last time I saw them."

She looked up from her dirt and gave Owen Paris a dazzling smile. "They were still in seed packages the last time you saw them."

"Precisely," he laughed. "They look much better now."

Kathryn sat up and leaned back on her hands. "It's good to see you, Owen. How are you?" She smiled knowingly. "How's Miral?"

Owen practically beamed. "She's a real spit fire, all right. Just like her mother. I got back from seeing them three days ago."

Kathryn's eyes widened. "You have new pictures!"

"Of course."

Owen started to reach for his wallet, but there was a loud throat-clearing from the other admiral standing next to him, and he and Kathryn both frowned at the man.

"I hate to break up the happy reunion," the man said, speaking with a nasally tone, "but familial relations is not why we came here today."

Kathryn eyed the second man coldly. She thought his name was Percy or Ponsen. She'd seen him sitting in on more than one of the boards she'd stood in front of upon her return to the Alpha Quadrant. He looked as though he'd never set foot outside of Sector 001. With a roll of her eyes, she turned her attention back to Owen. "How are Tom and B'Elanna doing?"

"Quite well, actually. That colony they've helped establish is really coming along well. They said to give you their love, oh, and they sent a package for you." He gestured back towards the main building. "I left it with security so they could scan it."

Kathryn laughed. "I hope Tom didn't put any files in this one. The security officers didn't know quite what to make of that the last time."

Owen shook his head. "I think he said something about a lock picking tool–"

"Admiral Paris," the other man interrupted, "we are here on official business."

"Fine, fine." Owen gestured to the man. "Kathryn, this is Admiral Pernsen. He'd like to speak with you. A situation has come up that Starfleet thinks you may be able to help with, and he wanted to ask you a few questions."

Pernsen seemed to puff up a bit as he started speaking. "Yes, I do. Now, Janeway, _Voyager _encountered an alien species called the Grethen on stardate 53102.3. What can you tell me about them?"

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at Owen, who shrugged sheepishly and made a hopeless gesture of understanding with his hands.

"Janeway," Pernsen snapped rather haughtily, drawing her attention back to him. "What can you tell me about the Grethen?"

A smile crept across her face. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"Pernsen. Jonathan James Pernsen."

She nodded. "Right, of course."

He waited a single beat before restating his inquiry. "The Grethen, Janeway."

"What about them?"

Pernsen's face seemed to color slightly. "What can you tell me about them?"

Kathryn reached for her spade and began turning over the earth in her small garden patch. "I assume you have my command logs, so you already possess everything I know about the Grethen."

In her peripheral vision she saw Owen swing his hands behind his back and rock up on his toes. She smiled at the small green plant that was near her face. She was probably enjoying this way more than she should, but from what she did remember of the Grethen they were no serious threat to anyone. She frowned. Except maybe for their fleas. It made her itch just thinking about how many bites she had come away with after a one hour meeting in their conference room.

"Kathryn Janeway, I expect you to be more forthcoming with your answers," Pernsen stated, missing the clump of dirt that Kathryn crumbled in her hand. "Now, tell me more about the Grethen than what was included in your logs."

Taking a calming breath, Kathryn nonchalantly reached for one of her other gardening tools. "Sorry. Can't. I don't seem to recall the Grethen aside from their names."

Pernsen scoffed, "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

She paused and looked up at him. "I don't really care what you believe." She turned back to her digging. "The Grethen were one of over _seventy_ first contacts I made in seven years. I can hardly be expected to remember them all."

"I think you're lying."

"Pernsen, that's enough," Owen snapped at him.

"I don't think it is," he argued. "This woman is being purposefully obstinate. She has a duty to Starfl–"

A muted thwop struck the ground, and both men turned to see Kathryn Janeway gaining her feet, her digging spade sticking straight up out of the ground. She was not a tall woman but moving until she stood toe-to-toe with Pernsen would have left anyone hard pressed to say that he was actually taller than her. He seemed to shrink under her ice blue glare.

"I have _no_ duty to Starfleet," she stated coldly, "or perhaps you missed that court martial, that stripping of rank, that sentence of incarceration." She shook her head. "But I don't think you did. In fact, I seem to remember you sitting in the second row, third seat from the left. I'm sure that from that vantage point you were able to see all of my proceedings quite clearly."

Pernsen's face colored again. "Yes, I was there. My attendance was m-mandatory."

"Well then, I'm quite sure you also saw my legal counsel there with me, Commander Tuvok."

She paused, seeming to require an answer, so Pernsen gave a quick nod of his head. "The Vulcan, yes. What about him?"

"Have you spoken with him recently? Conferred with him about today's meeting?"

Pernsen looked quickly to Owen for support, but found none. "No, I haven't. I don't believe the Commander is on Earth at this time."

"Of course he isn't," she snapped. "He lives on Vulcan with his family, but surely, Admiral, you have heard of subspace communications?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice thick enough that even Pernsen couldn't miss it. "I suggest you contact him before trying to speak with me again."

"Why?"

"Before I will speak with any member of Starfleet in an official capacity, they must first go through my legal counsel."

"But...that's outrageous."

"Starfleet is fully aware of my conditions." She continued to eye him coldly even as she took a step back, signaling an end to the conversation.

"I can't believe this." He threw up his hands in frustration. "Just what kind of Starfleet officer were you?"

If possible, her eyes seemed to grow even colder, but she said nothing to him. Instead she turned to Owen and her expression lightened. "Give the family my love, Owen."

He nodded. "Of course. Next time I visit, I'll promise to be better company."

She gave Owen a small smile and walked away without giving Pernsen another look.

"Who does that woman think she is?" Pernsen muttered, watching her go. "She entered a plea of guilty. She accepted responsibility for all the charges, but now she acts as though it's Starfleet's fault."

Owen was disgusted. "Of course she pled guilty, you twit. She was the captain."

Pernsen was shocked at the older man's tone but tried to recover. "You weren't much help. You could've spoken up. She might have listened to you."

"Ha!" Owen scoffed. "I told you I'd make the introduction, but after that, you were on your own. And what a hell of a mess you made." Owen started walking away but stopped and turned back to the pompous little admiral. "You really want to know what kind of officer she was?"

Pernsen nodded cautiously.

"She was the best."

* * *

Upon entering the facility, Kathryn tried her best to not storm her way up the stairs, but considering the looks of concern she was receiving from the usual guards, she figured she had failed miserably. It was probably unusual enough simply that she had come inside. She _never_ came inside during the day unless the weather was miserable.

Pacing into her room, she wished she had a door to slam. Once. Twice. Three times beside the small bed, her heels practically burning holes in the flooring as she turned quickly on them. The fourth time she turned and saw yet another of the security personnel nonchalantly passing by her door, she flashed a tight smile and went into the small bathroom. She rested both hands on the edge of the sink and tried desperately to dig her fingers into the unyielding surface. She wouldn't be able to stay in here long before they'd check on her, but she needed a minute of privacy, and the small nook of a bathroom was as private as she could get these days.

She was furious. How_ dare_ Starfleet send that pompous little man to ask her questions? Hadn't she given them enough? And Owen! He hadn't seemed happy about it, but he'd obviously agreed to the meeting at least to some degree. Owen Paris no longer enjoyed the same respect he'd once commanded within Starfleet, but there were still very few people who could_ order_ him to do something. She felt some of her anger seep away at that thought, though. Owen's loss of standing was one of many faults that lay at her feet.

"Kathryn?" A hesitant voice called from the doorway, and Kathryn exhaled tiredly, letting her chin drop to her chest. Her counselor had been alerted. "Is everything all right?"

Quickly marshaling her thoughts, although she strongly suspected that it was way too late, she called, "I'll be right out."

She turned the water in the sink on full blast and soaked her facecloth in the small pool. Her counselor was Betazoid. A tough young woman that could feel and hear everything Kathryn was thinking and was not easily cowed by Janeway's sometimes caustic demeanor. Scrubbing the rag over her face and then wringing it out, Kathryn stepped out of the small alcove, still using a small towel to dry her hands.

Her counselor, Meghan, gave her a wry smile and held out a square-shaped container. "Admiral Paris left this for you."

Kathryn tossed the towel back towards the bathroom and accepted the package. "Thank you."

"You have very...interesting friends." She waited until Janeway raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction before continuing. "Although security wasn't sure how you might use it, they did feel that they should confiscate the 'Easy Pickins Professional Lock Picking Kit' that was included in your package."

Kathryn chuckled and set the package down on her windowsill. She would wait until she was alone to look through it. "I'm sure it's ancient technology that I wouldn't even know how to use."

Meghan smiled. "Well, you can, of course, go down and view it anytime you'd like to."

Kathryn nodded and took a seat on the small bed. "So. How many of them called you?"

The counselor shrugged. "Only two. But Sam did seem to be hovering right outside my office and he's not usually on my floor during this time of day." She pursed her lips. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Kathryn barely repressed a snort. "Do I ever?"

"No," Meghan replied, hoisting herself up to perch on the small windowsill, "but that's never stopped me."

"No, it hasn't," Kathryn grumbled.

Meghan waited a few moments in silence before peering out the window. "It's still a pretty afternoon outside. We could go for a walk."

Getting to her feet, Kathryn sighed and headed for the door.

* * *

Meghan smiled when Kathryn headed towards the trail head that would lead them along the edge of the wide lake. She doubted that the former captain was choosing the path because it would give them more time to talk, but Meghan was thrilled with the idea that she could be unconsciously choosing it for that reason. She frowned. Then again, Janeway could be choosing it hoping that the young counselor wouldn't be able to keep up _and_ analyze her at the same time. As she thought of that reason, Meghan couldn't help but feel the rightness of the thought in Janeway's consciousness. That's exactly what Janeway hoped.

"Do you mind if I stretch first?" Meghan asked nonchalantly, making Janeway pause. She grabbed her foot, pulling her leg up behind her, and stretching out the muscles. "I love this trail. I run it every Wednesday."

Meghan hid her smile when Janeway took a fraction of a second too long to respond. "Every Wednesday? Well, we could always walk somewhere else–"

"Nope. This is fine." Meghan released her right foot and pulled her left one up. "Unless, of course, you don't feel like going that far."

There was a blast of frustration before the former captain grumbled, "It's a long walk. We better get started."

Janeway set a brisk pace, not waiting for Meghan to even finish stretching. Ten minutes later, she almost congratulated herself when the young woman still wasn't by her side, but then she heard the crunch of footsteps behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Meghan quickly making up the lost ground with an easy long stride. Kathryn sighed; she should've known it wasn't going to be that easy.

Kathryn had it on good authority that Meghan Vance had been brought in specifically for her after two previous counselors at the facility had ended their sessions with her in tears. Technically speaking, if anyone was crying after a therapy session it really should've been the patient, but as her Bajoran friend had put it - Kathryn Janeway was a hard nut to crack. A few days after the second incident, Owen Paris had let it slip that the acting chief of Starfleet Medical, one Beverly Crusher, had gotten involved, arguing that the facility was in fact supposed to be for rehabilitation, not for training counselors right out of the academy. Two weeks later, Kathryn had had her first session with the facility's newest counselor.

A civilian.

Meghan.

Upon meeting the young woman, Kathryn remarked that she sincerely hoped Meghan wouldn't end up in tears after their first session. The young counselor had given her a wry smile and simply stated that she didn't cry. After that Kathryn had been forced to admit, if only to herself, the young woman had indeed impressed her. During that first hour, they'd both parried and feinted with Kathryn grudgingly calling it a draw as to who had won their first session. Not that they'd been competing.

She really wasn't out to ruin every psychologist she met; she just didn't want to be told the world was all rainbows and flowers by someone who had never left the safety of their home planet. Upon making this comment at the end of their second session, Meghan had replied that sometimes it was safer on a starship than it was being planetside. It had been another two weeks after that quietly offered comment that Kathryn had finally been able to put some of the pieces together.

She'd been sitting in the main lobby of the facility with Will Riker when it happened. It had been an unexpected pleasure to find him sitting there after lunch, and she'd been thrilled to sit and talk with him. Riker had all the latest news and gossip and they'd talked for over an hour. The _Enterprise_ was about to head out for a three month long goodwill mission, but before they left, his wife, Deanna Troi, had wanted to stop by and check on a friend that worked at the facility.

Janeway had known that Deanna Troi was the ship's counselor for the _Enterprise_, and she'd jokingly needled Riker to try and find out which member of the staff Troi was there to see. It had been somewhat awkward when minutes later Deanna and Meghan had appeared together at the end of the hall. A few moments of soundless communication had explained Kathryn's presence as well as how much she knew.

As it turned out, she hadn't known nearly as much as she'd thought, and it had taken some digging on Owen's part to find out more. Meghan had been on Betazed during its occupation by the Dominion, and she'd been captured and taken up to the hastily built space station Sentek Nor. Because of her background, she'd been handpicked by the barbarian Crell Moset to report on the psychological condition of her fellow Betazeds while he'd tortured them. By Moset's account, she had been a stubborn, uncooperative, failed experiment, but all the survivors' testimonies had mentioned her as a source of strength bearing witness to atrocities no one should ever have to suffer.

Will Riker had led the away team that ultimately destroyed the space station and had actually been the one to rescue Meghan along with the other captive Betazoids. He'd found her in Moset's lab, injured and close to death with the Cardassian doctor standing over her. Her injuries had been severe enough that at Deanna's behest, Meghan had been sent to Starfleet Medical for healing and observation. Owen had never been able to find out what had caused her injuries.

But the truncated version of her file that he'd been able to peruse had been enough for Kathryn to respect her and more than enough that they were able to find some common ground between them. Their counseling sessions still seemed to be an adversarial process, but at least it was now an equal process.

"So, who was the git?"

Kathryn looked over at the unexpected question. Meghan was shoulder to shoulder with her now and didn't look as though she'd even broken a sweat although Kathryn knew she'd covered more than a kilometer before Meghan had caught up with her. "What?"

"Well, I know Owen didn't upset you–"

"I'm not upset."

"So it must've been the other admiral that was here today," Meghan finished, ignoring Kathryn's false denial. "Who was he?"

"No one of importance as far as I could tell," Kathryn muttered.

"Well, then, what did he want?"

"He just wanted to ask me some questions," she replied tiredly.

Meghan shrugged. "Okay. Did you answer them?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because they were stupid questions." Kathryn stopped walking. "Stupid pointless questions about a race called the Grethen."

Meghan didn't respond immediately as a barrage of mental imagery flowed from Kathryn. Meghan's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Starfleet wanted to ask you about dogs?"

The onslaught of mental images stopped abruptly, and Kathryn scowled. "I hate it when you do that."

"I didn't go looking," Meghan defended herself. "It was kind of hard to miss."

"They weren't dogs." She glanced at Meghan looking rather sheepish. "Sorry."

Meghan shrugged, accepting the apology for whatever Janeway had thought she'd done wrong. "So was it the mention of these Grethen that upset you?" Kathryn automatically began to deny again that she was upset, and Meghan held up a hand. "Please, let's not play semantics."

Kathryn ground her teeth for a moment before giving a curt nod. She turned and started walking again. "No, it wasn't the mention of the Grethen that upset me. They were one of the nicer, more well-meaning races we encountered over the years."

"Then...what?"

Kathryn slowed. "It worries me that he was here...asking _unimportant_ questions."

Meghan chewed on that for a moment and then gave it up. "I'm not following."

Kathryn stopped completely and stared out at the lake. "You've read my file. You know I'm here on a plea bargain."

"Yes." Meghan nodded.

"That plea bargain has certain conditions set into it. Some of which I set. Some of which Starfleet set." She glanced over at the counselor. "I'm sure you're familiar with the big ones."

"As the captain you took full responsibility for your actions as well as your crew's. You're incarcerated; they aren't," Meghan summed up her record. "Then after your sentencing, Starfleet pulled a fast one and exiled all of the former Maquis."

Kathryn's jaw tightened and her fists clenched. "Yes."

"As I understand it, your legal representation is still working to appeal that."

"Yes, Tuvok's trying, but I don't hold out hope that he'll succeed." She shook her head. "Carlson's mother is the only member of his family not killed by the Cardassians, and he can't even come visit her without fearing imprisonment."

Meghan gleaned from Kathryn's mind that Carlson was one of her Maquis crewmembers. She also couldn't help but see some of the more prominent Maquis that Kathryn thought about. "The exile also means that none of them can come see you."

"What?" Kathryn asked before snapping out, "That doesn't have anything to do with...anything."

The first officer of _Voyager_ was prominent in Kathryn's thoughts, but Meghan knew that wasn't something Kathryn would allow them to talk about yet. Mentioning him was a surefire way to get her patient to shut down completely. "So what were the other conditions of the plea arrangement?"

Kathryn's fists slowly unclenched at the unexpected but welcome retreat. "I was under a big media spotlight upon my return, but Starfleet didn't want me talking to the press. They didn't want me granting interviews or authorizing holonovels about our 'exploits' as they called it. Basically, they didn't want me garnering support of any kind for myself or for the Maquis, so they made it part of the agreement that I would not participate in any fact-gathering pursuits concerning the Delta Quadrant."

Meghan smiled broadly. "So today when that admiral turned up asking about the Grethen–"

"Yes." Kathryn nodded. "He wasn't the first. The first time they showed up to ask me questions about some accounting in my log, Tuvok happened to be here. He immediately halted the questioning, labeling it as a breach of the plea bargain."

"Bet they didn't like that."

"No, they didn't." She smiled sadly. "But there wasn't much they could do about it. They were the ones that set the condition. Only with my agreement could they make an addendum that would exempt Starfleet personnel from the condition."

"I'm guessing you did not offer your agreement," Meghan concluded.

"I did, actually," she countered, "but only so long as they lifted the exile condition from the Maquis."

"Which they didn't."

Kathryn nodded. "Which they didn't."

Meghan frowned. "So was that admiral that showed up today just ignorant?"

"I think so," she admitted, "and that's what worries me."

"Why?"

"Because it means they're starting to forget about me."

Meghan was surprised at the statement. Fame and attention were not things that she felt Kathryn Janeway desired. Quite the contrary, those were attributes that were anathema to her character. Meghan pushed out with her mind just a little to try and understand what the former captain was telling her.

"Oh!"

Janeway glanced at her exclamation and frowned again, understanding that Meghan had mentally sifted through her thoughts. She shook her head. "Don't you see? If Starfleet forgets about me down here, I'll never be able to help the Maquis."


	3. Chapter 3

_Notes: A little shout-out to Mizvoy's _Lulu_…she's the inspiration behind Meghan's thoughts concerning counseling captains. _

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Meghan sat back in her cushy office chair and took a deep, cleansing breath. It had been six weeks since the run around the lake with her most recalcitrant patient. No, run wasn't the correct word. If it had been a run, Meghan would have had no problem keeping up with the former Starfleet captain, but they hadn't run. They had walked...at a brisk pace.

A _very_ brisk pace.

It had taken everything Meghan had just to keep up with the woman who was actually a few inches shorter than herself. It was almost as if Janeway had wheels instead of feet, her stride was so smooth. And because Meghan had had such a hard time keeping up, the opportunity to get Janeway to discuss any personal issues had been completely abandoned.

If Meghan had harbored any doubt in her mind which of them had won that particular round, it had been made blindingly clear by the small smirk Janeway had given her upon returning to the main facility.

For a brief few minutes at the beginning of the trail, Janeway had allowed Meghan a glimpse of her true self. The guilt she harbored, the pressures she felt burdened by, and her true motivations. But it had only been a passing glimpse. And then Janeway's shields had been returned to full power. Deflector at maximum.

Meghan's gaze rested tiredly on the engraved crystal plaque that she had placed on the far corner of her desk.

_"The Irish are a race for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever." –Sigmund Freud_

Meghan snorted indelicately. No one in modern psychology believed anything the ancient scientist had said and there was no proof that Freud had even said that particular quote, but ironically Meghan found it to be very apt when dealing with Kathryn Janeway.

Spinning her chair around to face the windows, Meghan let out a mental blast of frustration towards Deanna Troi. She knew her old friend would never hear or feel the message, but it still felt good, nonetheless. It was, after all, Deanna who had convinced her to take this particular job, and it was only during her most recent visit that Deanna had presented her with the plaque. She'd known, of course, that Meghan was going to have her work cut out for her. Starship captains _always_ made the most difficult patients. There wasn't a counselor worth his or her salt that would disagree with that sentiment.

Admirals were easy because they had reached a pinnacle of sorts in their careers. They felt they had proven themselves and paid their dues. They were _allowed_ to feel the pressure of their rank. All ranks lower than captain were still working towards the big chair and were willing to take any advice they could get which they felt might help them achieve their goals.

But captains were their own breed. Always so busy. So many responsibilities. So much achieved and yet so much left to strive for. While Starfleet admirals routinely made decisions that could potentially affect thousands of people, the decisions of Starfleet captains usually only affected the people on their ship. The difference between the two was that captains could name and identify each person their judgments affected, forcing them to also bear witness to the repercussions of their decisions. It was no wonder that Starfleet psychology manuals had entire sections devoted singularly to the rank of captain.

It didn't help that they were also a prideful bunch.

But they were usually punctual. Meghan spun her chair back around and glanced at the desk clock. Janeway was late for her appointment. Janeway was never late. Meghan lowered her mental shields and reached out with her mind, looking for the formidable mind of the former captain. It was never difficult to find Kathryn Janeway as her mental footprint burned as bright as a supernova, but it was always wise to proceed with caution. Janeway was not exactly a fan of having her innermost thoughts lain bare. Keeping this in mind, Meghan kept her mental touch light as she located the woman in question.

Meghan frowned at what she found. Janeway was feeling extremely frustrated about something, and her inner voice was snapping out a dialogue that had Meghan on her feet and heading for the door.

Janeway was at the processing station, and she was being taken somewhere, but the guards wouldn't tell her where. Surprisingly, she seemed to feel Meghan's touch in her mind, and she offered up a simple command.

_*Hurry.*_

Taking the stairs two at a time, Meghan skidded to a stop just as a shackled Janeway was being escorted by two security personnel towards the front door. "Stop!" Her voice had come out louder than she intended, but she did accomplish her goal as the two guards paused and looked at her. "Where are you taking Capt...that prisoner?"

The female guard, an ensign that Meghan had spoken to briefly in passing, answered her. "She's being relocated, Counselor."

"Relocated?" That didn't sound good. "I wasn't informed of any relocation for prisoner Janeway."

The male guard shrugged. "We have our orders, Counselor."

Janeway's slate blue eyes looked directly at Meghan. *_Bluff.*_

Meghan blinked at the unexpected command and almost missed her chance as the guards seemed to think she was done speaking and were turning back to their current task. "Wait."

The ensign turned back to her. "Counselor?"

"I'm...I'm coming with you." Janeway's mental eyeroll at that statement did not help Meghan's resolve as the two security personnel looked at her as though she had lost her mind, but she pressed on. "Kathryn Janeway is currently under my care. If she is to leave this facility, it will only occur under my personal supervision."

The male guard scoffed, and Meghan didn't need to be a telepath to know what he thought of her. It also was no longer a question in her mind why he was still only a crewman. He obviously hadn't learned tact yet.

"Is there a problem, _Crewman_?" she addressed him.

He straightened. "You can't just _come_ with us. We're transporting a prisoner."

"Medical code 324.7D states that any prisoner receiving direct supervision from medical personnel shall not be moved, transferred, or released without authorization from said personnel. Furthermore, prisoners that may be deemed a threat to themselves or others–"

"Counselor," the ensign held up a hand stopping her from going any further, and Meghan studiously ignored the glare Janeway now directed at her. She'd hear about this later on. "I hardly think Prisoner Janeway is a threat."

"Then why do you have her shackled?"

The ensign looked uncomfortable. "It's like my partner said, we have our orders."

Meghan shared a look with Janeway. Something deeper was going on here than anyone was willing to say. "Well, I have my orders, too. I go with Janeway."

The ensign exchanged a glance with her partner before shrugging. "In that case, Counselor, you are more than welcome to take a ride with us. I don't know how far you'll get once we get there, but you can join us on the shuttle."

Not feeling at all relieved, Meghan nodded. "Thank you, Ensign." At a pointed look from Janeway, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"San Francisco."

* * *

_*So now I'm a threat to myself! Thanks a lot for that. I'm sure wherever we're going that will really help out my situation.*_

"Oh, shut up," Meghan mumbled out of the corner of her mouth.

The shuttle they were traveling on wasn't that big, and unfortunately for Meghan, although she could hear Janeway's thoughts loud and clear, if she wanted to reply to the former captain sitting across from her, she had to do it vocally.

_*Why didn't you just tell them I needed to be in a padded room!*_

Meghan smiled tightly. If Janeway kept her mental tirade up the whole way to San Francisco, it was Meghan who was going to need the padded room. "Sorry," she mouthed silently.

Janeway exhaled disgustedly and looked away from her, finally moving past that subject. _ *I wonder if Tuvok knows about this." _She looked back towards Meghan._ *If they don't let you stay with me, you have to contact him right away. Tell him everything that's happened so far. If you can't reach him, contact Owen Paris or Harry Kim.*_

Raising an eyebrow, Meghan waited, refusing to agree. She could practically hear Janeway grinding her teeth.

_*Please.*_

Meghan nodded. With a modicum of movement, she spread her hands, palms up in a gesture of question, wondering if Janeway had any better idea of what was going on than she did.

_*I have no idea.*_ Janeway answered her, easily understanding the unspoken question._ *There aren't any prisons in San Francisco, but Starfleet headquarters is there. If that Admiral Pernsen from a few weeks ago kicked up enough fuss, they may be hauling me back in to face the board again.*_

Janeway mused to herself for a few minutes. The images and thoughts flashing by so quickly that Meghan gave up trying to understand the older woman's many lines of thinking and just waited for Janeway to actively include her again.

_*The word that bothers me most about this is relocation.*_ She thought finally, returning her attention back to Meghan._ *Why would they say 'relocation' if this was just some legal proceeding they were dragging me to? Relocation sounds much more…permanent.*_

Meghan didn't want to add speculative fuel to the fire, but she admitted to herself that the whole situation had her concerned. In her short time at the facility she had seen dozens of notices about different prisoners and their scheduled absences, but she hadn't seen or heard a single thing prior to Janeway not showing up in her office this morning. Considering how close the security team had been to leaving, she doubted anyone had been planning on mentioning it to her.

Glancing around the shuttle, Meghan was also beginning to feel rather foolish. What was it exactly that she thought she was going to be able to do to help Janeway? Why in the name of the four deities did she jump on this shuttle as though she was going to be some great defender? If the past had proven anything to her, it had proven that she was no hero. She was just a civilian. They probably wouldn't even let her in the building.

_*What is it?*_

Meghan looked up and realized Janeway had been watching her as she'd had her own internal debate. She scowled. It was _her_ fault Meghan was even here; she'd ordered Meghan to come to her aid.

Janeway scowled right back at her._ *Don't look at me like that. I didn't tell you to get on the damn shuttle.*_

Meghan blinked at that. Was Janeway a mind reader after all? Or were Meghan's thoughts just that easy to read? She looked away from the piercing blue eyes. And damn, but the woman had a point. All Janeway had wanted her to do was find out some information for her. Her thoughts had been as surprised as the security detail when Meghan had demanded to be brought along as well. Meghan shook her head at herself coming to a realization.

Kathryn Janeway simply engendered loyalty. Having gained her trust and confidence, one simply did not walk away from her.

That single conclusion brought about a lot of crucial understanding for Meghan. She'd only known the woman a few short months and with only the slightest push, Meghan had quite literally placed herself shoulder to shoulder with Janeway and hopped onto a shuttle with her that at the time could have been headed back to the Delta Quadrant for all she had known. If it had only taken months to engender that kind of loyalty, Meghan could only imagine how loyal Janeway's crew must be to her after having spent seven _years_ with the woman.

The most interesting aspect of her new understanding was that Meghan now knew and understood that Janeway would probably have done the same, if not more, for her if their situations had been reversed. It was a comforting feeling until she looked up and saw the woman in question scrutinizing her. Glaring almost, as she had no idea what Meghan was sitting there thinking.

Meghan gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she settled herself into accepting the stroke of fate that she, like so many others, had been irretrievably pulled into the inescapable gravitational energy that was Kathryn Janeway.

Giving her head a small shake, Meghan asked quietly, "So…now what?"

The female ensign turned from the co-pilot's chair to look at back at the two women. "I'm sorry, Counselor, did you say something?"

Meghan smiled at her and just shook her head. "Nothing, Ensign, just thinking out loud." She turned her attention back to Janeway and cocked her head to the side in question.

Janeway leaned her head back against the bulkhead and closed her eyes. _ *Now we wait.*_

_

* * *

_

Meghan hated waiting. Despised it with a passion. And yet that was exactly what she'd been doing for the past two hours since they'd arrived at Starfleet Headquarters. Her realization that she probably wouldn't be allowed inside had proven true as the Starfleet guards had stopped her at the front door. She'd looked to Kathryn, but the captain's mask that Deanna had warned her about was firmly in place.

Meghan had never truly understood Deanna's warning until that moment. During her and Janeway's very first session, Meghan _thought_ she had seen the fabled captain's mask.

But she'd been mistaken.

The captain's mask she had seen on her first encounter with Janeway had been repressed amusement. A confidence about their impending interaction that had been downright cocky. But the expression Janeway had shown today as soon as the shuttle had touched down at Starfleet Headquarters had been downright intimidating. Her mannerisms and movements had remained calm and fluid, but Meghan had noticed the change.

And much to Meghan's amusement, so had the guards.

Despite Janeway's calm acceptance of their instructions, Meghan could feel their anxiety building. They weren't seasoned officers, and the ice cold scrutiny from their prisoner was more than enough to unnerve them.

And technically speaking, the Starfleet guards weren't even Janeway's enemy.

Following behind the three of them as they'd traversed the shuttle bay, Meghan had easily imagined how Janeway's mask must look to others. With her eyes alone, she could reflect a cold warning to any who would oppose her. The set of her jaw posed an impenetrable shield to those that would try to break her. And anyone facing her would be hardpressed to feel confident enough to stand in her way.

When they'd reached the doors, Janeway had given Meghan only a brief glance and a swift nod before being led away. Since that moment, Meghan had tried to follow her through a telepathic connection, to determine Janeway's state of mind and to try and have an idea of what was happening to her, but she got nothing useful. Cool indifference only - which surprised the hell out of Meghan. She thought for sure the woman would be planning and strategizing with crazed energy, but she was more like a cobra. Coiled tightly and simply waiting for the precise moment of opportunity…to strike.

Giving up on that avenue of approach, Meghan tried following the guards, but they were bored and thinking of their evening plans. Only once or twice did their thoughts focus on their prisoner, sitting calmly in a chair in the middle of the room where they were waiting. Nervous glances to check her position were all they would chance. They didn't want their focus to linger on her for fear Janeway would see how much her calm yet predatory demeanor was affecting them.

Eyeing a bench she'd already passed in her pacing more times than she could count, Meghan almost missed Owen's approach. If she'd been any other species, she would have, but as it was, he merely nodded to her and she fell into step at his side, his stride reminding her strongly of Janeway.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Tuvok's off planet, so I'm standing in as her legal counsel," he stated, scowling as the security ensign at the door looked as though he intended to stop them. "She's with me."

At Owen's growl, the ensign wisely waved them through and the older admiral set the pace, guiding Meghan deeper into the heart of Starfleet. She wanted to ask questions, but it was clear that Paris did not want to discuss anything out in the open. So she followed him, her footsteps making no noise in comparison to his boot heels hitting the floor in a very strident beat and echoing off the walls.

"In here," he growled, opening a door along the long hallway.

Meghan entered what looked to be a judge's chambers, and she wondered whose office they were in.

"Counselor, I need to ask you a very important question, and I need your honest answer," he started abruptly. "I don't want to hear what you_ think_ I want to hear. This is something I need your professional objective opinion on." Meghan started to nod and agree, but he pushed on before she could. "Is Kathryn Janeway mentally fit to captain a starship?"

Meghan's mouth dropped open. "Wha– when?"

"This afternoon. Tomorrow. Does it matter?"

"It matters a great deal," she stammered.

"Then she isn't?" he asked, his tone more of a pronouncement than an actual question.

"No, I didn't say that. Kathryn Janeway hasn't lost any of her mental faculties in the past year," she corrected him, feeling her feet gather more solidly beneath her. "I dare say the twelve month break has been good for her actually."

Owen regarded her closely. "But?"

"Starfleet can't just ask her to jump on a starship tomorrow after she's been incarcerated–"

"They can, and from what I've heard from my sources, they're going to," he interrupted. "Unless, of course, you recommend otherwise."

"Me?"

"You are her counselor."

"Well…yes, but–"

"But what?" he demanded brusquely, encroaching on her personal space.

Meghan bristled at his overbearing approach. She was not one to be easily cowed by his abrupt behavior, and it was about time Owen Paris found that out. "Now you listen to me Admiral. I am not Starfleet, and I will not be talked down to in such a manner." She poked him in the chest, actually moving him back a step. "If you want to ask me about my patient, then you will do so in a professional manner, and then I may or may not answer you based on my _patient's_ best interests. Not yours or Starfleet's. Do I make myself clear?"

Owen grimaced. "Can't you call her something besides 'patient'? That has a bad connotation to it."

"Are you kidding me?" she asked in disbelief.

He straightened and gave her a look of approval. "No wonder Kathryn likes you."

"Like is probably too strong a term," she retorted, but felt the bit of relief that echoed through his thoughts at her reaction. "Does all of this have anything to do with the Grethen?"

Owen looked surprised, then confused. "The who?"

Apparently not. Meghan discarded that idea. "Never mind."

"Why did you come here?"

His question caught her off guard, and she stumbled over her answer. "I…heh…I really don't know. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing."

His eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."

She was almost offended until she saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. She gave up. "What's going on?"

"It doesn't really matter how or why you're here," he began, "because they would have called you over subspace anyway. But now that you are here, I can actually ask you these questions and find out your responses before they do which gives me time to formulate my arguments."

"But what arguments?" she asked still trying to understand.

"Whatever arguments are in Kathryn's best interest," he answered. "I only know slightly more than you do about what we're walking in to, but we both know more than Kathryn does at this point."

"I don't _know_ anything."

He waved her off. "Now you said that in your medical opinion she was mentally capable to take command again. Is that true?"

"Well, yes–"

"But you have reservations?"

"Being in command is not going to be a problem for her," she explained, "however, being expected to follow orders from an institution that basically betrayed every principle she ever lived by is a different story entirely."

Owen nodded understandingly. "Would she be a danger to her crew or herself?"

"No, of course not."

"Would she be reckless?"

"No more than she was before." Meghan shrugged then clarified. "She would still protect any life entrusted to her even at her own peril."

He nodded grimly. "What if she was given a mission? Would she complete it?"

She hesitated. "It depends. She's no longer going to follow orders blindly. The trust between her and the command structure is gone."

"What if they have leverage?" he asked shrewdly.

"Leverage like the Maquis?"

Owen nodded.

"That'll work…to an extent."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me ask you this," Meghan paused, aligning her arguments in her head before she spoke. "I suspect her crew is as loyal to her as she is to them? Am I correct with that assumption?"

"Very much so." He nodded again. "They staged a protest outside the courthouse the day she accepted the plea bargain on their behalf."

"Well then, do you really think that if they find out about this, whatever _this_ is, they're going to let Kathryn continue to take the beating for them?"

"When."

"When?" Meghan was confused again. "When what?"

"It's not _if_ they find out…but _when_."


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimers and such can be found in chapter 1_

* * *

Janeway sat silently fuming, staring at the wood grain patterns of the table she and Owen Paris sat behind as the five admirals of the Starfleet administrative board discussed her as though she wasn't in the room. She was afraid if she looked up at them, her glare would make her opinion all too obvious.

"There's a reason, actually make that several reasons, we took her commission away in the first place," Admiral Rivers rumbled, pointing his finger at Janeway as if there were any confusion about who he was talking about. "She cannot be trusted to make rational decisions."

"Oh, please Hal," Admiral Nechayev returned. "She made thousands of decisions over seven years without any support from Starfleet available to her. Only a handful of those turned out to be questionable. Do you think _your_ percentage rate would be that exceptional?"

Rivers bristled. "I'd remind you, Alynna, that I have never once been brought in front of a review board for any of my decisions."

"That's because you've never made any command decisions," Nechayev retorted. "You've never left headquarters."

The gavel banged against its sound block as Admiral Garcia tried to return order to the proceedings. "Can we please return to the matter at hand, people?"

The admirals grudgingly fell quiet and Janeway dared to look up at Alynna Nechayev. It had been quite a shock to find out that one of her strongest supporters had been and still was the female admiral seated all the way to the right of the dais. During the debriefings, Nechayev had raked her over the coals repeatedly without once displaying a single glimpse of understanding, compassion, or support for Janeway, but now here she was defending her with a rancor towards her fellow admirals that defied believability.

The thought crossed Janeway's mind that she would have to be sure and tell Chakotay about it as he would never believe it either, but just as quickly as the thought had come, she regretted it. All this time and she still randomly forgot that she no longer saw him every day. She heard a slight movement behind her and stiffened, having also forgotten for a moment that her Betazoid counselor was sitting less than three meters away from her. Damn. As tuned in to Janeway as Meghan was today, she had probably heard that loud and clear. If they had any future sessions, Janeway was sure that it would come up.

"The matter at hand is simple. Elias," Nechayev stated, directing her comments to Garcia. "We have a problem. Janeway is the most efficient solution."

"That's debatable," Rivers commented sourly.

Nechayev ignored him and continued. "I put forth the motion that we pardon Kathryn Janeway, reinstate her commission as captain of _Voyager_, and move forward with the mission at hand."

The admirals went into an uproar again, and Owen's hand came to rest heavily on Kathryn's shoulder, holding her in her seat. "Easy."

"What the hell is going on?" she hissed at him, taking advantage of the admirals' inattention. "What mission are they talking about?"

"It's need to know, Janeway," Admiral Rivers snarled having overheard her, "and we have not yet decided whether or not you need to know."

She hadn't been trying to draw the attention of the board, but now that she had it, she wasn't about to back down. She stood up to address him. "Admiral, I believe it does concern me. I can always decline."

"Kathryn," Owen muttered quietly at her side.

"No, Owen, I might be able to save them a lot of time." She shook his hand off her arm. "I could tell them right now to shove it, and they wouldn't have to decide whether or not they trust my judgment."

The old admiral sitting next to Nechayev that had remained quiet throughout the proceedings raised two bushy eyebrows in surprise. Nechayev pinched the bridge of her nose. Rivers simply looked triumphant. He waved his hand at Janeway. "_This_ is who you want to entrust with saving the fleet."

"Saving the fleet?" Janeway asked with incredulity. She looked up to Admiral Garcia. "Could someone please have the professional courtesy to tell me what _exactly_ is going on here?"

The admirals all exchanged looks. Some guilty. Some not. The old admiral with the bushy eyebrows whose name Janeway had still not caught, cleared his throat. "I think she has the right to know. Tell her."

Rivers sat back in his chair obviously not agreeing but also not willing to speak out against the older admiral.

Garcia nodded and looked to Pernsen who had yet to contribute anything useful. "Give her the outline."

Pernsen cleared his throat. "Thirty days ago the _USS Sarek_ detected a spatial distortion wave bearing down on their position. The distortion ring overtook the ship and appeared to all crewmembers to be crushing and distorting the very physical makeup of the ship."

Janeway cocked her head. "_Appeared_ to be?"

"Yes. The spatial distortion wave passed completely through the ship leaving no structural damage at all despite what crewmembers reported seeing. However, their ship's systems _were_ affected," he paused and looked to Admiral Garcia before continuing. "The entire ship's database was erased and replaced with _Voyager_'s."

"_Voyager_'s?" she repeated in astonishment.

"Yes, _Voyager_'s complete database up until stardate 49012.3."

Janeway's brow furrowed as she quickly did some math. "But that was only partially in to our second year."

"Since its first appearance thirty days ago," Pernson continued, "the spatial distortion has reappeared every six days, wiping out the computer databases of five ships and replacing each with a copy of _Voyager_'s database."

"We believe it's looking for _Voyager_," Nechayev contributed, looking at Janeway, "and more specifically for you."

Janeway glanced at Meghan and Owen, hoping the counselor was getting more from this exchange than she was. Turning back to the board, she asked. "What makes you think this distortion is looking for me?"

The board of admirals all looked uncomfortable, but Nechayev spoke as bluntly as she had during all the debriefings. "It's asked for you by name."

* * *

Janeway watched in amused understanding as Meghan buried her head in her hands and groaned. The two of them and Owen had been dismissed from the board room and told to wait in one of the antechambers while the admirals discussed what further details of the current situation they were willing to share. Janeway stood silently, looking out the lone window while Owen sat across the table from Meghan.

"It has to be something dangerous they want me to do, but surely, they must already know what my grounds will be for any deal," Kathryn muttered.

"They do," Meghan answered, her voice muffled behind her hands. "Rivers is surprised you haven't asked for it already." She let her hands drop to the surface of the table. "He wanted you to ask so he could use it against you."

"What about the others?" Owen asked. "Where do they stand in all of this?"

"Bulloch is content to let Nechayev be his mouthpiece."

"Bulloch is the older gentleman?" Janeway clarified.

Meghan nodded. "He's on your side and has been since the beginning. He disagreed with your court martial, but unfortunately he wasn't planetside at the time of your arrival home." A smile flitted across her face. "He enjoyed it when you talked back to Rivers."

"That bodes well, then," Owen snorted, catching Janeway's eye. "Bulloch is good people. I've worked with him before on operations, and he was a major player in the Dominion War."

Kathryn nodded. "That puts two in my corner and two against me. Rivers' opinion of me is obvious, and I already know what Pernsen thinks of me."

Meghan grimaced. "No…you don't."

Janeway raised an eyebrow in question.

"Pernsen won't side with you; you're right about that. He's too afraid of Rivers," Meghan explained, "but his opinion of you is _not_ what you think." She held up her hand to ward off Janeway's next question. "He's been thinking a lot about black leather, you, and a tribble." At Janeway's stunned reaction, Meghan pleaded, "_Please_ don't ask me to elaborate."

Owen almost laughed, but covered it well with a cough when he caught the look of disgust on Janeway's face. "Well then," he said still clearing his throat, "that just leaves Garcia."

Before Kathryn could speculate on that, the door to the antechamber opened, allowing entrance to Alynna Nechayev. She threw down a PADD unceremoniously and pulled out the chair at the end of the table. "I have the terms of the agreement."

Janeway took a seat at the opposite end of the table and leaned back in her chair. "An agreement would imply that I have consented to the terms, Admiral. Perhaps I should clarify my position."

"No clarification is necessary, Captain." Nechayev's expression didn't waver as she slid the PADD across the table. "All the details of our proposal are listed."

Kathryn shifted the PADD to Owen without so much as glancing at it. She preferred to keep her focus on her target. "Why don't you tell me the details of the situation first?"

The Admiral's lips tightened at Kathryn's disregard of the offer, but she recovered quickly and gave a curt nod. "Very well. In the second year of your journey, your ship encountered a spatial distortion wave that left _you_ incapacitated. By all accounts, the wave moved through your ship distorting the physical makeup of _Voyager _as it traveled. Upon completion of its…scan you awoke and claimed that it had been trying to communicate."

"Yes," Janeway agreed. "We also found that it had copied the entire database and left new information in return."

"Twenty million gigaquads of new information, to be precise," Nechayev clarified. "We believe _that_ spatial distortion is the same one that we are encountering now."

Janeway's eyes narrowed. "You said it asked for me by name…how?"

Nechayev sat back in her chair. "Each ship that has encountered the wave has had their captain become incapacitated for the duration of the wave's passage. Upon its departure, the captain regains consciousness and asks for you by name."

Meghan's eyes darted towards the Admiral and Janeway saw a small crease appear between the counselor's eyebrows.

"We believe," Nechayev continued oblivious to the counselor's reaction, "that if you…communicate with it, you'll be able to find out what it's after and we can stop losing…databases."

Janeway scoffed, "And Starfleet is willing to reinstate my commission just to have me 'talk' to this entity?"

Nechayev began to respond but Meghan spoke first.

"They don't think you'll survive the encounter."

The young Betazoid's declaration fell into the room, robbing Nechayev of her planned reply and leaving a deafening silence in the room in its wake.

The cold knowledge that Meghan's statement was the truth settled in the pit of Kathryn's stomach, and she slid her eyes to the admiral seated at the end of the table that for the first time since entering the room looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Is that true, _Admiral_?"

It didn't surprise her really, but she wanted the point acknowledged.

Nechayev swallowed thickly before answering. "It is one possibility."

Owen slammed his hand against the table and pushed his chair back as he stood. "We're done here."

Meghan stood, too, albeit more slowly and calmly, but Kathryn remained seated, her eyes on Nechayev. "This is about more than a couple of computer databases," she said coldly, shrewdly. "What is it that has Starfleet so worried?"

Nechayev slowly raised her eyes away from the floor and stared pointedly at Meghan. "I'm not at liberty to say."

At Meghan's quick intake of breath, Kathryn was halfway out of her seat until the counselor held up a hand to her, stilling her movements while never breaking eye contact with Nechayev. Kathryn glanced at Owen, who shifted nervously as the silence drew out for several minutes. Then Meghan blinked and put a steadying hand on the seat she had vacated earlier.

Nechayev's chair scraped across the floor as she stood up. "I'll give you three a few minutes alone to discuss your options."

As soon as she'd left the room, Owen asked, "What is going on?"

Meghan sank back into her seat, a hand held to her forehead. Janeway stood and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table. She set it down in front of Meghan and parked her hip on the table. "Are you all right?"

The young Betazoid nodded and took a grateful sip of the water. "There's a_ lot_ they aren't telling you."

Kathryn folded her arms across her chest and nodded. "Start at the beginning."

"Well for starters these 'contacts' aren't nearly as benign as they're making them sound." She pushed her hair back from her face and regarded Kathryn directly. "They started out that way, but they've become progressively more destructive to both ships and…captains.

"The first time it happened, it did just as they say. The database was replaced and the captain asked for you, but by the latest contact…the _Shakespeare_," Meghan shook her head. "Almost every system on the ship was affected. It had to run on reserve power until it managed to get back to a starbase."

"What about the captain?" Owen asked.

Meghan glanced worriedly at Kathryn. "He was raving…delusional. They tried sedating him, and that didn't work at all. They ended up confining him to the brig…but that didn't stop his demands."

"And he was demanding…me?" Janeway clarified.

"More or less," Meghan hedged.

Janeway's eyebrow raised. "What was he saying?"

Meghan hesitated. "He wanted you brought to him…"

Janeway frowned as Meghan trailed off. The counselor's hesitation alone had given her away. Placing her palms on the table, Kathryn spoke very clearly. "Meghan. Tell me _exactly_ what he was saying."

"Dead Janeway. Janeway dead. Bring me dead Janeway."

Owen swore under his breath, but Kathryn barely glanced at him. "Then what happened?"

"They tried explaining to him – it, that you weren't dead. Apparently a lot of the crew were familiar with your case. They explained that you were in prison and that the Maquis members of the crew had been exiled." She spread her hands wide on the table. "He…the captain or entity didn't take the news very well."

"I can understand that feeling," Janeway commented wryly.

"He…it…started throwing out names of _Voyager_'s crewmembers, demanding to see them, but he kept coming back to you. Repeating it like a chant almost."

"What did he say when he mentioned the others?"

Wrinkles appeared on Meghan's forehead as she thought about it. "Nothing about them being dead…at least, I don't think so. That wasn't the impression Nechayev had."

Janeway nodded, straightening. She eyed Owen. "And you didn't know about any of this?"

He looked surprised at the question. "No!"

Meghan shook her head. "They didn't tell him because they knew he'd interfere. Bulloch is the reason he even knew about the hearing today."

Kathryn apologized to Owen with her eyes and paced silently away from the table. This decision, despite her dragging her feet, had really been cut and dry until her crew had been brought into it. If Starfleet was really worried about this thing attacking ships until it found and killed her then there was no argument, but if it had any intentions of killing her crew…that was another matter entirely. She wished she could know precisely what had been said by both parties.

"There's a video log."

Janeway's head came up to find the counselor watching her closely. She mentally swore, acknowledging the counselor's mind reading, but Meghan was already shaking her head. "They don't want you to know about it, and they won't acknowledge its existence." She smirked a little. "The admiral didn't exactly intend for me to see that bit of information."

"And what about the rest of my crew?" Janeway asked, one hand resting on her hip. "What were Nechayev's thoughts on them and this mission?"

Meghan understood what she was really asking. "They want them to go on this mission, too. At least, they want the Starfleet members anyway."

"The _rest_ of your crew?" Owen asked, confused. "What in the blue blazes are you two talking about?"

Kathryn took a minute to explain as she understood it. "Starfleet wants to stop this thing from attacking ships. I'm the best way to do that, but if now I'm not the only thing this entity wants, then they're going to want to bring in my crew." She shook her head to emphasize her point. "I will not endanger my crew on Starfleet's behalf. They deserve better."

Owen picked up the mostly forgotten PADD with the terms of the agreement. "That may be a deal breaker, Kathryn."

She frowned at him and the PADD. "A minute ago, you didn't know what I was talking about, Owen."

"Well that was when I didn't think you were actually going to go through with this." He handed her the PADD. "Reading through this agreement they've offered you, there's a few stipulations. One being that as many of your former crew as possible that were onboard at the time the entity originally passed through _Voyager _should and _will_ be present."

She skimmed the contents of the PADD. "What about the Maquis?"

He shook his head. "No mention of them."

She snorted. "If they want the crew of _Voyager_, it has to have Maquis."

Owen chuckled, receiving a death glare from both women. He shrugged, not at all affected by it. "You just said you didn't want to endanger them, and now you're saying Starfleet has to. You can't have your cake and eat it, too, Kathryn." He paused, noticing a glint in her eyes that he hadn't seen in the past year. "You've already got a plan."

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Kathryn's mouth and Meghan dropped her head back to the table.

* * *

As the admirals all filed back into the main court room, Owen, Meghan, and Kathryn all stood respectively. Nechayev's face betrayed nothing of how she was feeling, but Rivers looked positively gleeful.

Once everyone was seated, Owen approached the dais and handed a PADD to Garcia. "I believe you'll find everything is in order."

Garcia accepted it with only the mildest trace of surprise on his face. "Thank you, Owen."

"Our pleasure," Owen replied, turning back towards the table. "But you may want to review it. We made some changes and additions."

"What!" Rivers exploded, surprising nobody. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, I believe you'll find that we can," Owen returned calmly, taking his seat, "and we have."

A stunned silence followed as everyone watched Garcia as he scrolled through the PADD's contents without comment.

"_Well_," Rivers couldn't take it any longer. "What does it say?"

Garcia handed the PADD to Bulloch and set his gaze on Janeway. "We were hoping to avoid another ship getting hit by this thing. The time frame you've outlined makes that unlikely."

"The _plan_ I've outlined makes it impossible," she corrected, "but it also makes it safer."

Bulloch let out a low whistle and smiled broadly at Janeway as he finished reading and set the PADD down. When Rivers made a noise of impatience, Bulloch rolled his eyes and passed the PADD towards him. "It's a gamble, but it's no less than what we're asking her to do."

Janeway nodded her appreciation for his understanding, but everyone in the room seemed to be waiting for the reaction from Rivers. They didn't have to wait long.

"This is outrageous," he said, slamming the PADD down. "You can't seriously expect us to just…go along with this."

"Would you prefer to go in my place, Admiral?" she asked calmly.

Rivers' eyes narrowed. "Just who do you think you are? No Starfleet officer would ever-"

"At the moment, I'm _not_ a Starfleet officer," Janeway interrupted. "At least not until you and your colleagues ratify this agreement."

He shook his head. "No. I won't do it."

"Hal–" Alynna began but he cut her off.

"No. I will not sit here and have terms dictated to me by a convicted felon. She has no right." He pointed at Janeway to emphasize his speech. "We offered her a chance to redeem herself, and this is what she gives us in return. It's preposterous."

"It's the only chance you have." Janeway pushed her chair back and stood, circling out from behind the table to stand directly in front of the admirals. "You want me to risk my life and the lives of my crew to go and confront this anomaly, and all you offered was my freedom and the temporary return of my commission. That's pittance, and it's not enough. Not _nearly_ enough."

"It's all you're going to get," Rivers sneered. "Although I'm not even inclined to give that to you now."

"Then send me back to prison." Janeway shrugged, turning her back on them and returning to her seat. She paused before she sat down and looked at Rivers again. "Just tell me one thing before you do, Admiral. How _exactly_ do you plan to defend yourself against this spatial distortion?" She began ticking off on her fingers as she spoke, "Weapons don't work against it. It goes through shields like they aren't there. The only way it communicates is by overtaking ships." She paused before making her last point. "And apparently you can't seem to avoid it."

Rivers bristled but offered no answer.

"I'm the best shot you've got at dealing with this thing," she stated firmly as she scanned her audience, "and we all know it."

Not willing to give in, Rivers leaned forward. "You're a prisoner, Janeway. We can put you in the brig of a ship just as easily as we can put you in a prison here."

"You could," she agreed easily, nodding, "but let's not forget, the last time someone told this anomaly that I was locked up in a brig, it didn't respond too kindly."

"And just how the hell do you know that?" he demanded, glaring at Nechayev.

Janeway gestured behind herself to where Meghan was seated. "My counselor is a telepath. As a matter of my personal safety, she was obligated to share that information with me."

"So," he glared at Meghan, "did you tell her _everything_?"

"She knows that you have no concern whatsoever for her safety," Meghan bit out, returning his glare tenfold.

"Counselor," Owen muttered quietly, warningly.

Rivers refocused on Janeway, thankful he could look away from the young Betazoid's penetrating eyes. "Well, Janeway, now you know there are lives at stake here, and yet you still put your pride before your duty. I guess now we know how you lost so many people from your crew. We should just consider ourselves lucky that we didn't have to put up with you during the Dominion War–"

"That's enough Rivers!" Bulloch growled and Rivers sat back in his chair with a sound of disgust.

Janeway's stomach roiled with Rivers' last comments, but she cleared her throat and forced herself to speak clearly. "Gentlemen and ma'am, bottom line…you need _me_ more than I need _you_." She made eye contact with all of them. "We do this _my_ way or not at all."

Only the creak of chairs could be heard as the admirals shifted in their seats. Garcia drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair while exchanging looks with his colleagues. Finally, he gave a small shake of his head. "A temporary reassignment of _Voyager _personnel still on active duty isn't going to be a problem. Most of them have chosen roles that have kept them near Earth, but are you confident that you can get the rest of your crew back?"

"I'm confident that I can get them to listen to me," Janeway allowed, "which is more than I can say they'll do if you send a Starfleet contingent to request their help."

"And if they don't agree?" Garcia asked.

"I'll still hold up my end of the deal. I'll go with only my Starfleet personnel to the designated coordinates and meet the distortion," she answered. "Try to put an end to this."

With his answering nod, Janeway knew she had Garcia's approval. He held out his hand for the PADD and Pernsen handed it to him, avoiding eye contact with Rivers. After what appeared to be another moment of deliberation, Garcia affixed his approval to the agreement. Rivers got to his feet and left the room in a huff, followed closely by Pernsen.

The other admirals stood, as did Owen and Meghan. Garcia collected the PADD from the dais. "It's going to take approximately thirty-six hours to get all the Earth-bound crew in place on _Voyager_ and for the ship to be ready to go. You'll need to check in with security and get your status updated, but after that, you should still have time to put your personal affairs in order."

"Thank you, Admiral, but there is one more thing, sir," Janeway replied, glancing towards the doors Rivers had just exited through. "I want to see the brig logs from the last ship the entity encountered."

Garcia's face remained expressionless. "The _Shakespeare's_ systems were damaged, Captain. There are no brig logs."

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I believe there may have been one or two recordings that were…salvageable."

Nechayev's eyes narrowed in Meghan's direction.

"Those records could be the difference between success and failure, sir," Janeway added firmly.

Nechayev regarded her shrewdly. "Suppose those records did exist, how would they possibly help this mission?"

"It could be anything," Janeway answered simply. "A single word may not make any sense right now but in the moment it may mean the difference between life and death." She set her jaw. She could tell that they didn't want her to see the recording because they thought she'd back out of the mission. They didn't know her very well. "We all know this thing wants _me_ dead, but I owe it to my crew to insure _their_ safety as much as possible."

"It'll take some time to get them cleared through security," Bulloch said as he tugged on his ear. Memories of someone else doing that same simple gesture flooded Kathryn's mind so much that she almost missed the rest of what he said, "as soon as I get them, I'll transmit them to you. You'll have everything, Captain. I promise you that."

Kathryn sucked in a quick breath and nodded her appreciation. "Thank you, sir."

Bulloch shook his head. "You have nothing to thank me for, Captain. It's _us_ who should be thanking _you_."

No one in the room verbally acknowledged his comment, but Kathryn appreciated it nonetheless.

"Captain, be sure and take Counselor Vance with you to security," Garcia instructed, preparing again to leave the room. "They'll need to input her biometrics and issue her a comm. badge before you depart for the ship."

Meghan's head snapped up. "Wait. What?"

"Of course, sir," Janeway acknowledged the admiral while mentally bracing herself for Meghan's reaction. It hadn't been her idea to include Meghan, but she had been hoping to address that particular point of the agreement with the young counselor _after_ the admirals departed. Now, Bulloch was eyeing the three of them suspiciously.

His bushy eyebrows pulled together as he addressed Meghan. "Well, young lady, you are the captain's counselor, aren't you?"

She sputtered, "Y-yes, but–"

"And you weren't planning on abandoning her now, were you?" he pressed.

Meghan's head turned towards Owen and Kathryn only to find neither one of them looking at her. She turned back to the admirals. "But you just cleared her for duty! You're sending her on a mission!"

"A mission that has a high probability of Captain Janeway experiencing psychological trauma…at the least," Nechayev replied stoically. "Your services will be needed, Counselor, if not for her then for her crew."

Meghan flinched at the words, but still managed to protest. "But I'm a civilian."

"Civilians can serve on starships," Bulloch retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Hell, half the crew of this ship is going to be civilian."

Garcia did not seem as amused. "You can, of course, refuse, Counselor. We can assign a Starfleet counselor to the mission if need be."

Owen cleared his throat, and Meghan glared at him. He had the common sense to look slightly embarrassed. "Come on, Counselor," he tilted his head towards Kathryn, "you're the only one that's been willing to put up with her."

Meghan growled a little before seeking out the woman in question. Kathryn looked up at her this time and held her eye, but her mind was a complete blank slate. Grinding her teeth, Meghan knew it was on purpose. Janeway would never _ask_ for her to come…but still those blue eyes were conveying some emotion. Worry. Concern.

"Counselor," Garcia interrupted the silent standoff, "do I need to make arrangements for another counselor?"

Meghan continued to hold Janeway's gaze. She didn't want to go into space, and she certainly didn't want to go into space with a captain that was going headlong into what amounted to a personal suicide mission. Watching as another person knowingly faced death was not what she had signed on for. She'd had enough of death. And even though she absolutely hated what she was about to do, she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it. Being in a confined space, surrounded by people that were expecting to confront death. She felt sweat break out on the back of her neck at the simple thought of it. She just…_couldn't_–

Kathryn's eyes flashed regret and she lowered them, breaking contact with Meghan. She knew. A grim smile of acceptance flitted across Janeway's face, and she gave a short jerk of her head before turning away to pick up her things from the table.

"Counselor?" Nechayev's voice broke the silence. Her tone alone asking the unspoken question.

Meghan turned towards the waiting admirals, her heart in her throat as she answered quietly. "I'll go."


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimers and such can be found in the prologue. It's a twofer day. :) Hope you enjoy!  
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* * *

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*The time is 0700.*

"Computer, silence alarm and reset for twenty-four hours," Janeway said, walking into her bedroom carrying a cup of coffee. She'd already been awake for two hours, watching the stars race past her viewports as they hurtled towards the planet that the majority of the Maquis half of her crew had chosen for their resettlement. In actuality, the planet was little more than a satellite moon, but from all reports, the displaced _Voyagers_ had turned it into a promising colony.

Their success was a delight for the people of the planet the moon orbited. They'd been trying for years to do something useful with the celestial satellite and had been unsuccessful. It pleased Kathryn to know that once again her crew had defied the odds. She could only hope that their renowned luck would hold out for one more mission.

They were going to need it…or at least _she_ was.

Despite having the thrum of _Voyager_'s deck plates underneath her feet again and being back amongst the stars, Janeway was incredibly uncomfortable. The old saying "you can never go home again" was quickly becoming the mantra for her life. Earth had certainly not turned out the way she'd expected, and now _Voyager _didn't feel right, either. The quarters that she'd lived in for seven years no longer felt familiar. She tried convincing herself it was only because they were absent of her things, but she knew that wasn't the only reason.

The bridge had felt the same way. Lieutenant Harry Kim happily announcing her arrival as she'd stepped off the turbolift had brightened her spirits. Having just arrived from Vulcan, Tuvok's calm but warm countenance reassuring her as she stepped past his post had been wonderful, but the dark haired lieutenant standing at attention near the helm had immediately dampened her enthusiasm. He was a stark reminder that there were thirty personnel on the ship that, as far as she was concerned, did not belong.

However, since she didn't want any of her _Voyager_s to have to work double shifts, she had accepted the necessity of replacement crew, but she had every intention of sticking them all on Delta shift at the earliest possible moment. Thanks to Tuvok's willingness to fill two positions, she hadn't been saddled with a temporary executive officer. She didn't think she would've been able to handle that with any sort of aplomb. The limited mission briefing she'd had the previous day with the senior officers that were on board had been awkward enough. Even with Vorik's familiar face filling in B'Elanna's empty seat, it had been disconcerting not to see Chakotay or Tom grinning back at her from their respective chairs. To see a stranger sitting next to her on the bridge would've been too much.

Simply put, she may have once again assumed the mantle of captain, but _Voyager _was no longer hers.

She was, however, heartened to know that within six hours, _Voyager_ would finally be filled with those missing familiar faces. At least, she hoped it would. When they'd found out the resettlement colony was expecting a shipment of supplies, Kathryn had immediately had it doubled and loaded onto _Voyager_. She figured she may as well arrive bearing gifts before she asked them all to put their lives on hold for a week.

Shedding her night clothes and stepping into the shower, she couldn't help but wonder for the ten thousandth time, if they _would_ drop everything just to go on another mission. She certainly wouldn't blame them if they didn't, and despite Starfleet's suggestion, she'd be damned before she tried guilting any of them into it. She felt bad enough that Meghan had been shanghaied along for the ride.

Although she was secretly relieved to have the counselor along, Meghan's presence, so far, had been less than comforting. Kathryn had thought that once they'd gotten under way the counselor would relax, but if the glare she'd been given last night in the mess hall had been any indication, such was not the case. Which was fine, in and of itself; Kathryn had been the subject of many a crewmember's ire on more than one occasion. Most memorable of which would easily be B'Elanna, and so far the young Betazoid had absolutely nothing on a pissed off half-Klingon. But unlike B'Elanna's case, this time Kathryn had no idea what she had done. She hadn't _forced_ the counselor to come along.

She shut off the shower and grabbed for a towel. This morning, while waiting for her alarm to sound, she'd finally finished all the reading material Owen had dumped on her. He'd assured her that it was all worthwhile, current and significant events, new treaties she hadn't been privy to, and several new general orders for all Starfleet crews to follow. While she agreed that most of it had been worth knowing, it had been time consuming and somewhat dry. This morning, after she checked in with the bridge, she intended to finally catch up on the reading she actually wanted to do. Her crew's profiles. She'd get to find out what they'd all been up to, their achievements, and whether or not she should recommend any of them specifically to visit the counselor.

And now that the counselor was a member of her crew…Kathryn could read her record, as well.

It was unusual that Starfleet even had a record on a civilian, but given her role during the battle for Betazed and her subsequent medical treatment by Starfleet, Meghan did in fact have a file. A rather detailed one, as it turned out. Kathryn just hoped it would give her a bit more insight as to what was troubling her newest crewmember.

Thirty minutes later, Janeway exited her quarters and headed for the turbolift. Seeing the doors were just about to close, she called out. "Hold the lift."

The doors obediently reopened and Janeway couldn't help but feel the irony when she saw the lift's lone occupant was Meghan. She smiled warmly. "Good morning, Counselor."

"That remains to be seen."

Janeway exhaled wearily, "Computer, halt lift."

Meghan faced her with a questioning look.

"You do remember that you're the one who can read minds not me, right?" Janeway asked, turning to face the younger woman.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the counselor scowled and turned back to facing the doors of the lift. "Can we go now?"

"No. You've been ready to spit nails ever since we left the courtroom, and it's past time you told me what was going on."

"I beg your pardon?" Meghan looked at her with anger and incredulity simmering in her expression. "I do not have to tell you anything."

Kathryn actually felt like smiling at the younger woman's emotion but knew instinctively that reaction would not help the situation at all. It had been a whirlwind few days that had invigorated her despite the expected outcome, but the young Betazoid that had now been essentially put in her care had suddenly become intractable. "I understand that the sudden reversal of roles between us has been a bit…disconcerting but–"

"Disconcerting?" Meghan repeated. "Are you kidding me? I just got hauled off a planet against my will and thrown on a starship that is being run by someone who less than a few days ago was considered to be a convicted felon. Add to that the fact that the ship is being mostly manned by Starfleet crewmen who have no trust or faith in the organization that they're serving," she pointed at Janeway, "and that includes you, by the way."

Janeway stood silently, not reacting, patiently waiting for the counselor to continue. Meghan didn't disappoint.

"We're also on our way to pick up fifty or more so people that were completely displaced by the organization that is now going to ask them to just put their lives on hold and go on a mission for them. A mission that will most likely destroy the one single person that is keeping this entire impossible situation from exploding and ruining the lives of everyone involved." Meghan braced her hands on the wall of the turbolift and lowered her head towards it. "And people wonder why I never joined Starfleet."

Meghan's voice had slowed down in energy and vehemence with her last statement being muttered more to the wall than to anyone else, and Janeway ventured forward. "Are you finished?"

"No," Meghan snapped, turning around to face her former patient, her ire spiking again. She folded her arms tightly across her chest and leaned back against the wall of the lift, actively trying to glean some of Janeway's reaction so she could have more to rail against but found nothing useful. She hated when Janeway did that. "Fine. Yes. I'm done. For now."

"Good. Let's get one thing straight. You are not here against your will. As you've pointed out, I could care less what Starfleet says, so at any point, you say the word, and I'll have a pilot and a shuttle readied to take you home, whether that's Earth or Betazed. Okay?" Janeway didn't wait for a response. "But let's be perfectly honest. No one made you get on this ship. If you had truly demanded to not be included, Starfleet would've picked another counselor to join us."

"_Forced_ another counselor, more like," Meghan muttered.

Janeway acknowledged the comment with a nod. "I believe the term they prefer is 'ordered', but whatever the reason, you're here now, and I appreciate the sacrifice you're making. If I am to be saddled with a counselor on this mission," Meghan's eyes narrowed at her but she continued, "I'd just as soon have it be you." Janeway's wry smile appeared. "I can at least trust that you won't break down in tears on the bridge."

"I might," she retorted irritably.

"I'll take my chances," Janeway replied and then decided to take advantage of their moment of privacy. "In all seriousness, Meghan, you're here. You are a part of this mission, and there are classified details about this mission that you and I alone on this ship know about." Meghan opened her mouth, but Janeway spoke over her. "Let me make this clear now. As captain, _I_ will decide what the crew needs to know and when. Do you understand?"

Meghan's eyes widened in realization. "You aren't going to tell them, are you?"

"I'll tell them everything they need to know to do this mission. I will not speculate on its outcome," Janeway's chin came up, "and neither will you." Meghan started to protest, and Janeway shook her head. "There is no compromise on this point. If you feel that you cannot follow this order, I'll have the shuttle readied for you now."

Janeway studied the younger woman and could see the conflict warring in her features. She took some of the steel out of her voice when she spoke next. "I've always believed that the mission chooses the captain, and in this case Meghan, I believe this mission chose you as well." She indicated with a wave of her hand the ship beyond the turbolift. "The majority of the people that are going to be on this ship for the next several days have been through the grinder and, quite frankly, could probably use several sessions with you. Obviously our limited time frame won't allow for that, but I believe your presence will be beneficial, nonetheless. You _aren't_ just any other counselor. They'll recognize in you a kindred spirit…just as I did, and they'll see you as a new addition to the _Voyager _family." Kathryn gave Meghan a warm smile at the word family. "I know you may find that hard to believe, but you'll see. They'll bring you into the fold."

Meghan felt and heard how much love Kathryn had for her crew, and it pained her. "But you're the head of that family, Kathryn. What happens when–"

"They'll survive," Janeway stated flatly, "and that's the most important thing." She gave Meghan a faint smile. "But if the worst happens, it'll be good for them to have someone like you around...afterwards."

"Afterwards," Meghan whispered then shook her head. "It doesn't seem fair."

"You, maybe more so than anyone, know that life isn't fair," Janeway chuckled darkly. "We just have to make the most of it." She waited a moment to gauge Meghan's reaction, but when the counselor didn't say anything, she turned back to face the doors. "Computer, resume lift."

The lift resumed its motion and Meghan eyed the older woman. Still feeling a bit petulant, she prodded, "And are you?"

Janeway looked at her, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Am I what?"

"Are you going to make the most out of your life?"

Kathryn gave no outward reaction to the counselor's question as the lift doors opened, depositing them on the bridge, but Meghan felt a surprised reaction to her question. Janeway hadn't really thought about it…but she certainly was now.

* * *

Chakotay pulled a nail from the pouch he wore on his hip and swiped his sleeve across his forehead before placing it. There were certainly easier ways to put a roof on a house than with a nail and hammer, but their fledgling colony didn't really have ready access to the tools or supplies needed for those methods. He hit the nail once…twice…and then reached into his bag for another. He didn't mind anyway. He rather preferred knowing that when he finished the house and sat down inside it next to a roaring fireplace, he'd do it knowing that his muscle and sweat was behind every single nail. Every plank. Every cross beam and floorboard.

Unfortunately, the walls he was building would also swallow up a lot of dreams. Dreams of a dark-headed son running barefoot and being chased by his auburn-headed sister. He still had hopes of convincing a certain stubborn redhead to join him out here, but ten years was a long time, and neither of them would be young enough to start a family by then. Ten years was also a long time for Kathryn to get good and set in her ways…even more so than she already was and convince herself that she didn't love him.

But Chakotay knew better. He'd forgotten for awhile towards the end of their journey, but for a single moment at the end of her trial, he'd managed to catch her eye. One moment was all it had taken for him to see everything in her clear blue eyes. All the hurt, all the love, all the sacrifice had shown in her eyes for a single, heart-wrenching moment that for him had lasted an eternity.

She'd only begun to realize everything that she was giving up.

But he also knew she would've given up even more.

Kathryn had held his gaze against the clamor and uproar of the crowd inside the court room. For that single moment, they had been the only two people in the room. And then the security officer had appeared by her side, placing a restraint on her wrist and shattering the illusion. Chakotay had practically been bowled over by a photographer, and by the time he was able to see Kathryn's face again, the command persona had slammed into place.

To this day, he was glad he'd missed the moment when her eyes had changed from the soul-searching blue to the distant grey that she turned towards the crowd. He'd sunk back onto the bench he'd been sitting on as she'd been led out of the courtroom without offering him a single backwards glance.

Under the hot sun of the planet, he pounded another nail into place. It was his spirit guide's fault that Kathryn was occupying so many of his thoughts this morning. Not that she was ever _that_ far from his mind, but he had managed in recent weeks to not constantly obsess over those last few moments he'd seen her. Through a lot of meditation, he'd managed to once again release some of the hate for Starfleet that had begun to fester anew since Kathryn had been incarcerated and he and the others had been forced into exile. His spirit guide and the lands in which he met her had been bleak for those first few months. The ashes of plains, withered forests, and dry riverbeds had greeted him every time he'd tried to meditate, and his spirit guide hadn't ignored him; she'd just been listless…inactive.

But as he'd begun to accept and plan for the future, his vision quests had reflected his change of spirit. The trees had begun to blossom, new grass began to peek through darkened plains, and water once again flowed clear across the rocks. Then one day his spirit guide had flopped down next to him, resting her graying muzzle on his thigh as he sat, and he'd seen the strangest thing.

A small lizard was sitting on the wolf's head.

His spirit guide had, of course, offered no answers to his questions about the lizard, but she had permitted him to carefully scoop the small, mottled-looking animal into his palm, cradling it carefully. It had looked ill, and for several moments he was at a loss as to what he was supposed to do. The wolf beside him nudged his hands with her nose, and he'd instinctively pulled the small creature in closer to his body. Slowly, the lizard's skin shifted color until it resembled more closely the color of his skin. It spread its small webbed feet out against his palm and its eyes closed to half slits, looking very content in the palm of his hand. The wolf chuffed once and then laid her head down on her big paws.

Since that day, the lizard had accompanied him and his spirit guide in every vision quest, usually choosing to crawl up his chest, coming to a rest on his shoulder. He hadn't understood it, but he'd found that he enjoyed having the small but tenacious creature accompany him as he meditated. This morning was the first vision quest since that day the lizard had not been present, but his wolf had certainly made up for the small creature's absence. She'd gamboled around Chakotay as he'd walked down a familiar trail, sometimes nipping at him and then lowering her head and front paws as her bushy tail waved happily back and forth. Her energy had been infusing, and her playful yelps had continually surprised and intrigued him.

When he'd come out of the vision, he'd still had a smile on his face at his spirit guide's antics. She always reminded him of Kathryn when she acted that way because she was usually up to something that he would have to weather later. He fished in his pocket for another nail, and his fingers scraped across what felt like the last one in the pouch. Looking up towards the town center, as they affectionately called it, he saw that the dust cloud he'd seen earlier had settled down. It seemed that the supply ship had managed to only be one day late this time.

He pounded the last nail into the roof and then rolled onto his back, closed his eyes and began trying to relax muscles that had stayed in one position for too long. With the arrival of the supply ship, he'd gotten all the work done on the house that he'd have time for today.

There was no hard set hierarchy among the former _Voyager_s, mostly Maquis, that had chosen to settle together here, but with Kathryn's absence he still seemed to be the de facto leader. The others would have checked over the inventory by the time he arrived, but he would still need to sign for the supplies and begin the process for their next order.

A decidedly feminine throat clearing came from somewhere beneath him, and his eyes shot open.

"Really, Chakotay," the unmistakable husky voice carried up to where he was still laying on the unfinished roof, "lying down on the job?"

Slowly he sat up and saw _her_ standing below him, arms folded across her chest, hip cocked to one side, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and her blue eyes sparkling in delight. He blinked, feeling sweat roll down the sides of his face, but he couldn't keep from staring at her, almost afraid that if he looked away she'd disappear.

One eyebrow arched upwards. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Chakotay recovered and began shaking his head. "I suppose I really should have warned them."

Her arms unfolded, and her hands found their way down to her hips. "Warned _who_ about _what_?"

"The wardens," he answered her mock frown. "I knew you'd eventually take over the place."

The grin continued to pull mercilessly at her mouth, and she had to duck her head to cover it before responding. "Would you believe they let me out on good behavior?"

He snorted. "No."

The grin turned into a full blown smile. "Damn straight."

Chakotay laughed out loud at her response, wondering where she had picked up that phrase. The sound of her laughter in return filled an ache in his chest that he'd thought would never leave him. "How did you–"

"Are you going to come down and give me a proper greeting, or do I have to come up there?" she asked, cutting him off.

He laughed and held up a hand, stopping her. "I'll come down." He gathered up his tools. "Seriously, Kathryn, how did you manage it? Did Starfleet change its mind?"

When she didn't answer, Chakotay looked down over the edge of the roof only to see she had her back to him as she looked towards the town at the edge of the horizon. "Kathryn?"

She turned back and looked up. "How did you not see us coming in?"

"I was on the other side of the house," he explained, climbing carefully down the ladder, "and I was expecting a supply ship, so it didn't surprise me to hear a ship coming in. I didn't pay much attention to it."

Kathryn met him at the foot of the ladder; the radiant smile from a few moments before was now more of a shy smile. She moved towards him only to pull herself back at the last minute. Her mouth opened and closed before a nervous chuckle escaped her and she managed, "It's _very_ good to see you, Chakotay."

Completely ignoring her attempt at decorum, Chakotay dropped the tools from his hands unceremoniously and took a single step forward, boldly wrapping his arms around her and swinging her around and off her feet.

The slight yelp of surprise confirmed that she hadn't been expecting that, but after only a second her arms tightened around him, fiercely hugging him back even after her feet were firmly back on the ground.

He felt a tremor pass through her body as he held her close. He'd sworn for all these months that the next time he saw her he'd never let her go again; he'd never thought it would be so soon, and still, he didn't want to release her.

And she didn't show any signs of wanting to be released.

"It's good to see you, too, Kathryn," he whispered into her hair.

She nodded against his chest.

He breathed deeply, enjoying the light scent of roses that clung to her hair, amazed at how much he'd missed it. Then he realized what he must smell like after working on the roof in the hot sun for six hours. "Oh, Kathryn, I'm sorry."

She pushed back without letting go of him and looked up. "It was my choice."

"What?" he asked completely confused.

Then she did let go of him, her own confusion now mirroring his. "What?"

"I just meant that I probably smell bad."

"Oh."

He was surprised to see her face redden. "What did you–"

"Well, yes, you are a bit…ripe," she agreed hastily, taking another step back and crinkling her nose.

He could see damp spots on her clothes where she had been pressed against him. She obviously hadn't minded. Chakotay couldn't help but wonder just how long she'd gone without touching someone. The tactile touches Kathryn was known for weren't exactly the kind of thing one did in prison, which brought him back to his original question. "How did you get here?"

For a second he saw something in her eyes, but then like dissipating smoke it was gone. She smiled at him. "I have my ways."

The smile didn't reach her eyes. He opened his mouth to press the issue, but she cut him off again.

"We should get going."

He frowned. "Going? Going where?"

"Don't you want to check over your supplies?"

"You came in on the supply ship?" he asked, astounded.

"In a manner of speaking." She smiled again and while it was still a shadow of the one he'd seen earlier, she did seem truly happy about something.

"The supply ship is little more than a bucket of bolts." He regarded her warily. "What aren't you telling me?"

She grinned and began walking away.

"What are you up to, Kathryn?" he called after her, watching her hips sway and thinking that she was definitely putting a little more swagger into them than usual. Not that he minded.

She looked back over her shoulder at him. "Are you coming?"

He picked up his dropped tools and hurried to catch up to her, not knowing where they were going or what they were going to see when they got there. He was also very aware that she had neatly avoided answering a single one of his questions. Once again he was following her lead while knowing next to nothing himself.

It felt like old times.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimers and such can be found in the prologue._

_

* * *

_

"Hey! Pipe down!" Tom bellowed over the gathered, jostling crowd. "The captain has something to say!" He looked guiltily over at the woman in question as the reunited crew of _Voyager _slowly settled down and began to quiet. He shrugged. "Sorry, Captain, but the spoon and glass method just doesn't carry too well out here."

Janeway shook her head at him as they exchanged places so that she was now standing in front of the crowd. She took several moments to thoroughly scan the crowd of faces, drinking in the familiar expressions, most of which she never thought she'd see all in one place again. Mortimer Harren and Samantha Wildman seated next to Mike Ayala and the Delaney sisters. Tal Celes, Tabor, Tom, and B'Elanna all at another table, turned so they were looking at her. Chakotay and Harry standing with Seven and the Doctor off to the side. Kathryn was even happy to include Meghan, seated at the back of the gathering, in her family reunion.

"It sure is good to see everyone again, but I guess you're all wondering why we're here," she said, and there was a low murmur of amusement. "I explained the very basics of this mission already to the crew that traveled with me here, but now I need to tell _all_ of you what's brought me out here. I've got some good news and some…well, some _other_ news. Good news first, though…all of the former Maquis are free to travel back to Earth at any time they choose to do so. The order of exile has been lifted."

The smile on Janeway's face faltered as her announcement was met with silence. She glanced to Chakotay, whose face betrayed nothing, and then back across the crowd, unsure of what she had missed and completely surprised by their lack of response. She looked to Tom and B'Elanna, hoping they'd help her out, but neither of them held her eye for more than a moment.

"Now you're starting to worry me. That was the best news I had for this evening. Anyone want to share the problem with me?" Kathryn spread her hands wide. "I thought you'd all be happy to hear that."

People shifted in their seats before finally, of all people, Ayala got to his feet. "Ordinarily, Captain, that would be great news, but I think what we're all wondering is…at what cost? What's the price Starfleet is demanding for that freedom?"

There was an upswell of affirmative grunts and confirmations. She shook her head. "Nothing…none of you have to do–"

"And what about you, Captain?" Dalby stood up, boldly interrupting her. "What price are they making _you_ pay?"

Another murmur passed through the crowd, and a lot of people were nodding. Kathryn looked to Chakotay and saw that he, too, was waiting for her answer. Meghan caught her eye, and the expression on the counselor's face felt like a challenge to Janeway. She scanned her audience again. "I guess after seven years together, I can't get anything past you, can I?"

A few more pairs of arms crossed and a few more heads nodded, but there were no smiles of amusement as they waited for her answer. She sucked in a quick breath and gave a curt nod of her head. "Starfleet needs me to go on a mission for them."

The crowd grumbled, and she even heard a few swear words as her crew talked amongst themselves about her announcement.

"What _kind_ of a mission?" B'Elanna's voice cut across the building buzz. "Is it the kind of mission you don't come back from?"

The gathering fell silent as a light evening breeze blew over them. Kathryn held B'Elanna's gaze when she answered. "Well…you haven't killed me yet, so I'm going to venture out and say that I'm safe for the moment." Looks of confusion greeted her response, and she hastened to explain. "The first part of my mission was to make contact with all of you. Maquis and Starfleet crewmembers that served on _Voyager_," she clarified and paused before adding, "It seems that once again Starfleet needs your help…_I_ need your help."

"What's the second part of the mission, Captain?"

Harry's plainly spoken question drew her attention to his side of the gathering, but her focus was quickly drawn to the man standing next to Harry. As far as she could tell, Chakotay hadn't moved a muscle the entire time, but she quickly looked away from him when she answered, unwilling to be drawn too deep into his unrelenting gaze. "The short version, Harry, is that something followed us back from the Delta Quadrant. It's been causing a bit of havoc, and as we seem to be the subject matter experts on it, Starfleet has asked that I…that _we_ go out and investigate."

As murmurs of the different species they'd encountered over the years were speculated about, Meghan stood up at the back of the crowd. Janeway braced herself, worried for a moment that the counselor was going to contribute her own two cents, but with a hard look at Janeway, she just turned and left the gathering, heading back for the ship, unnoticed by any of the _Voyager_s. Kathryn knew she'd probably hear about this later, but she was satisfied that even if Meghan didn't agree with her handling of the situation, she was at least keeping her mouth shut. For now.

"But what about you, Captain?" Tal Celes asked, quieting the crowd. The young Bajoran blushed deeply, knowing she now had everyone's attention focused on her. "H-have they dropped the charges against you?"

All eyes turned back to Janeway, and she was glad she didn't have to give only a half truth this time. She nodded. "My record has been wiped clean, and my rank has been reinstated."

"But only so long as you go on this mission?" Tom clarified after a smattering of applause and cheers quieted.

"Mmm…more or less. Your father and I kind of had them over a barrel, Tom." She smirked at him. "I made sure I got what I wanted out of the deal."

"So, who is it?" B'Elanna asked. "The Viidians? Hirogen?"

"No," Janeway shook her head. "Nothing like them. It's actually a spatial distortion that we ran across in our second year." Soft talking again broke out as people shifted their focus from alien races to other problems they'd encountered, trying to remember which one she was referring to. She laughed lightly, "I know…there's a lot to choose from, but you may remember this one for its ability to make us all feel a little lost on our own ship. Anyone remember walking around for hours just trying to get from one department to another? Recall seeing a green light pass through the ship that made everything look distorted? Well, that's the one."

"But why us?" a voice near the back of the gathering asked, and Janeway couldn't pinpoint who had spoken.

Dalby nodded and continued the line of questioning. "Yeah, doesn't Starfleet have Alpha Quadrant scientists just itching to go out and see this thing?"

"I'm sure they do," she agreed easily, then hedged a bit, "but so far they haven't had much success with it. Starfleet is hoping we'll have better luck."

Janeway saw B'Elanna's frown of concentration and knew the engineer was about to ask a question she wouldn't be so easily able to sidestep. "This entity has so far encountered several ships and with each one, much as it did with us, it has left information and data in their computer systems. To be more specific, it has left a copy of _Voyager_'s database. Starfleet believes that if _Voyager _herself, manned by her original crew, can intercept this thing, then perhaps they can stop losing…computer cores."

"But we didn't lose our computer core," B'Elanna argued. "It just…added to it."

"Yes, well, that's the difference this time," Janeway replied, relieved that she had diverted B'Elanna's attention for the time being. "Yesterday, the distortion encountered another Federation ship, the _USS Rathbone_. This time, in the computer's databanks there was a message...from me. It gave coordinates and a date of five days from now." She paused letting the information sink in for a moment. "_Voyager_ will be at those coordinates. Waiting. Hopefully, the entity will have understood the message and it will…meet us there."

"Why five days?" Harry asked.

"Five days gives _Voyager_ enough time to get there with crew in place, and the coordinates given will draw it back out towards open space instead of closer to Earth."

"So we meet up with this thing," Tom began skeptically, "and then what?"

"The idea is that it will once again pass through us and _Voyager_, find out we're all alive and well, and its curiosity or whatever you want to call it will be assuaged." She paused. "Since we have lost people over the course of our journey, you can see why we'd like to have as many of the original crew as possible for this mission. The more familiar we look to this thing, the better, but, of course, I'm not asking you to decide tonight. After all since we don't know exactly what this thing wants, it could be a bumpy ride. Go back to your homes. Talk it over, and we'll reconvene tomorrow morning."

Tom and B'Elanna exchanged a look and stood up. "We're in, Captain."

Harry grinned and joined them. "Me, too."

The evening air was suddenly filled with sounds of movement as the entire gathering got to their feet and stood as one, facing their captain in a show of solid devotion and commitment. Swallowing thickly and blinking back tears, Kathryn once again scanned the audience. More than one person smiled as she caught their eyes specifically. Others simply nodded their affirmation. Finally, her sweeping gaze sought out the one person she needed most. Chakotay continued to stand at the edge of the crowd, his eyes burning with intensity as they locked with hers, and Kathryn felt the breath in her lungs begin to ache as she waited for a sign from him, wondering if she could even do this without him.

He nodded.

* * *

The earliest rays of sunlight were just beginning to streak the sky and Kathryn relished the quiet solitude of the planet's morning. Tom and B'Elanna, like so many of the reunited _Voyagers_, had chosen to stay on the ship after the meeting had dispersed the night before. _Voyager_ did, after all, have a few more amenities and comforts than their current planetside accommodations. Kathryn had no doubt that the replicators and holodecks had been in full swing last night on the ship, but she had been reluctant to reboard. B'Elanna had noticed and pointed out her and Tom's shelter at the end of the path, assuring Kathryn that they wouldn't be returning to it until after the mission. Kathryn had gladly accepted the offer of hospitality.

When she heard footsteps on the gravel path that led up to the shelter, she smiled. She knew who it was, as only one person would dare venture near her this early in the morning. Leaning back comfortably in the wooden chair, she sipped her coffee and waited for him. The footsteps came to an abrupt halt as they cleared the side of the Paris home.

"Good morning, Chakotay," she smiled, her voice low as though there was the slightest possibility she could wake someone else up. There wasn't, as the nearest shelter was more than three hundred meters away.

"Kathryn…I wasn't expecting you to actually be up yet," he managed, also speaking quietly as if in reverence of the early morning hour.

She responded with a throaty chuckle and hooked the chair next to her with her foot, pulling it closer. "Won't you join me?"

"I'd love to," he said, accepting the offer and settling into the creaking wood. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I actually slept very well, thank you," she responded, watching his eyebrows pull together in disbelief. "You don't believe me?"

He shrugged guiltily. "I've never known you to be up this early unless it was because you hadn't gone to sleep."

"You know my sleeping habits that well? I don't recall ever seeing you in my living room at five in the morning." Kathryn raised an eyebrow at him but couldn't tell in the early light if he was blushing at her comment or not.

He tugged on his ear as he looked away from her and out towards the reddening sky. "We shared a wall, Kathryn." He looked back at her to find she was expecting more of an answer. He chuckled and leaned towards her. "On mornings you actually slept, you would call for a snooze at least four times, but if you were already up–"

"All right, you know." She cut him off and looked out at the horizon, sipping her coffee before quietly offering, "My schedule has changed somewhat since we last spoke."

Chakotay settled back into the chair and followed her gaze out to the horizon. "I would guess that an institutionalized setting such as…prison," he had difficulty saying the word, "probably had strict policies on when you slept and when you rose."

"To say the least," she snorted and turned to him. "Do you have any idea, Chakotay, the last time I actually had someone tell me when it was time to go to bed?"

He tried not to grin at her obvious exasperation as he guessed, "I don't know…high school, maybe?"

"Not even then," she ground out. "I was twelve years old, Chakotay. _Twelve_, the last time my mother told me when to go to bed. Anytime after that, if I wanted to stay up I would just study…or at least pretend to and neither of my parents would bother me."

Chakotay frowned realizing he finally had the answer to a lot of Kathryn's poorer sleeping habits.

"But then all of a sudden, I'm in…I'm there, and they tell me lights out at nine p.m. and they actually expect me to sleep. I'm close to being fift..." she trailed off and corrected herself, "I am an adult woman–"

Chakotay laughed at her brief hesitation. "Kathryn, I know how old you are."

She ignored him. "The point is, I know when I need to sleep and when I don't." He huffed in argument, but she continued to ignore him. "I did not need someone telling me when to go to bed."

Choosing not to challenge her on her lack of proper resting habits, he continued her thought for her. "I'm guessing that they didn't ask for your input, though."

"No," she grumbled. "They didn't. Nine o'clock came, the doors were closed, and we were locked down until the lights came back on at four thirty with breakfast being served at five thirty."

They were both quiet with their own thoughts for several minutes, before Chakotay latched onto the fact that despite her complaints she was in fact up before he had been this morning. "Apparently, you adjusted?"

She gave him a sidelong glance. "Believe me, it took awhile." She set her empty coffee mug down on the ground. "Pacing the very small area of the room wasn't at all like roaming the decks of a starship."

His heart clenched at the sadness he heard in her admission, and he wanted to apologize, but she shook her head at him before he could utter the words.

"So," she continued a little too brightly, "I became very good at meditation. I got back in contact with my spirit guide." She gave him a wry smile. "I found out that my attention span only allows me to count to four thousand, seven hundred ninety two." The smile disappeared. "And eventually I started becoming tired at…nine p.m." She shook her head at the last admission, but then gestured towards the now rising sun. "And here I am. Up before sunrise. My grandfather would be proud."

"Getting a good night's sleep is hardly the worst habit you could pick up, Kathryn," he offered, but she just gave him a faint smile. He decided to change the subject. "Why didn't you stay on _Voyager_ last night?"

Her face crinkled slightly, surprising him. Shaking her head, she answered, "Too sterile. Those may have been my quarters once, but now…now they're just quarters. Besides," she squinted at the brightening sky, "this has a much better view."

He couldn't argue that. "This is actually why I was coming to wake you up. The sunsets are even better though."

"Really?" She clucked her tongue. "I should've paid attention last night, but I was just so caught up with seeing everyone again I didn't even notice."

"You'll get another chance," he assured her. "When I finish the house, it'll have a porch that faces the sunset every evening." A flash of pain crossed her face but was gone so fast he wasn't entirely sure he'd seen it. "Kathryn, what–"

"Tell me about the house," she interrupted. "I realize it isn't finished, but I thought it looked kind of…small for a family home."

Chakotay felt slightly indignant. "It'll be more than enough room for two people and even have a guest bedroom."

"But I thought…I thought you always wanted a family, Chakotay. A wife and a couple of kids."

He looked into her eyes and read there all the uncertainty he felt, but he wasn't going to hold back this time. He was going to speak plainly and make sure she knew exactly how he felt about her. What he had to say would either simplify the sleeping arrangements for the next several days or make things incredibly awkward. But he'd waited long enough. "Kathryn, the house is small because I was waiting for a certain someone to arrive. The only woman that I have ever wanted as my wife. Kathryn, I built that house for–"

A comm. badge chirped inside the shelter, and Kathryn jumped to her feet so suddenly she almost bumped into Chakotay as she stood.

*Kim to Captain Janeway*

Standing just inside the door, she activated the badge. "Good morning, Harry. Thanks for the wake-up call."

*My pleasure, Captain. We've received notice that you'll have an incoming call from Admiral Nechayev in five minutes.*

She glanced over where Chakotay was now standing by the chairs. She grimaced slightly, "I'm sorry, Chakotay, but I have to get back to the ship."

"Wait, Kathryn, I only need a minute," he tried, moving closer to her.

"Sorry," she said, looking more nervous than apologetic. "Harry, transport me directly to my quarters."

*Aye, Captain.*

"For us," Chakotay sighed as she disappeared in the shimmering blue light. "I planned that house for us."

* * *

Two hours later, Kathryn strolled onto the bridge. Tom swiveled in his chair at the helm to flash his cocky grin at her while Chakotay, moving in a more dignified fashion, rose from his command chair. She couldn't help but beam at them. "Now that's more like it." She nodded and descended the few steps to the command area of the bridge. "Report, gentlemen."

"All crew are checked in and standing ready at their posts, Captain," Chakotay reported, stumbling slightly on her rank.

"Thank you, Commander." She turned to the front, pretending not to hear his slight stumble. "Mister Paris?"

"Ready to fly when you are, _ma'am_." He smiled broadly, letting her know he'd used the hated form of address on purpose.

Her eyes flashed with mischief. "Mister Paris, I know that you've been out of uniform for awhile, but I just assumed you wanted to remain at the rank of lieutenant. That can, of course, be changed."

His grin never faltered, and she knew he wasn't the least bit worried. "Lieutenant is just fine, Captain."

"That's what I thought." She tapped her comm. badge. "Janeway to Lieutenant Torres. How's it looking down there B'Elanna?"

She was answered with a reassuring growl. *They've completely screwed up my engines, Captain. All we've got is standard issue…everything.*

Janeway exchanged a bemused glance with Chakotay. "We'll just have to do the best we can with what we've got."

*Aye, Captain. Just keep that in mind before you try anything…unusual.*

"Duly noted, Lieutenant. Janeway out." She took a seat in her command chair. "Mister Paris, code blue. Take us up."

"Aye, Captain." The build-up of power in the intrepid ship could be felt by all as she lifted clear of the planet and soared towards the darkness of space under Tom's gifted touch. "Where to, Captain?"

She seemed to think on it for a few minutes, long enough for Chakotay to glance over at her, before answering. "Oh, I don't know, Tom. Why don't you take her through a few maneuvers? Get your space legs back."

He spun around to judge her sincerity. Upon seeing her utterly calm face and amused grin, he smiled openly and spun back to the conn. "Aye, Captain."

Chakotay leaned towards Kathryn over the console between their chairs. "Nowhere to be, Captain?"

"Not for a couple of days," she shrugged.

He found her answer a bit odd. "What did the Admiral want this morning?"

She turned to face him, and he could see her once again fighting a grin. "She was just informing me of some…drills that she felt _Voyager _should take part in."

"I see." He pulled up the screen on the computer between them. "Are you going to give me the schedule of events?"

"No."

She couldn't see him from her vantage point, but Janeway knew perfectly well that Tuvok had just straightened to the point of snapping his spine.

"Captain?" he asked, beating Chakotay to the question. "Is it to be an undetermined schedule?"

She paused, debating the decision she'd already made minutes after signing off with the Admiral earlier in the morning. Even though neither of them had spoken, she knew Harry and Samantha were hanging on waiting for her explanation just as much as Tom, Chakotay, and Tuvok were. She wondered briefly how their serving on _Voyager _again was going to affect their careers. She would just have to make sure, in her report and logs, that this was completely her decision without input from any of her officers.

She stood and faced Tuvok. "Commander, I'd like you to put together a few safety drills for the crew. Make sure everyone still remembers where it is they're supposed to go during a red alert. Shake the rust off."

"Of course, Captain, but is that what the Admiral had in mind?" he asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Not exactly," she practically drawled her answer. "Admiral Nechayev wishes for us to spend the next three days in the company of cadet ships, practicing battle simulations and taking part in Kobayashi Maru drills." Kathryn turned back to face the rest of the bridge crew. "However, if I may speak frankly, I think this crew and this ship have faced enough unwinnable situations and persevered through them that any _training_ on it would be quite laughable." She paused, taking a moment to gauge everyone's reaction. They didn't appear as though they were about to mutiny, so she continued. "With that being said, I am taking full responsibility for the fact that we will not be joining the exercises, and I am doing this against recommendations from all of my officers."

Silence reigned on the bridge as everyone absorbed her words. It was a completely new concept to adjust to. The captain that had stuck to Starfleet protocol like a Ferengi to latinum for seven years had apparently left the ship. A chuckle escaped from Tom before he could stop it, and Chakotay frowned at him while Harry just looked relieved that someone had broken the silence.

Instead of ignoring his abbreviated laughter, Janeway surprised everyone again. "Yes, Mister Paris? What is it?"

Scanning his audience quickly, Tom wasn't entirely sure if he could get away with the thought that had crossed his mind. Looking at Chakotay and seeing the same scowl he'd seen for seven years directed at him, he knew for a fact that he shouldn't say what he'd been thinking. He cleared his throat. "Nothing, Captain, just…clearing my throat."

She cocked one eyebrow at him.

He straightened in his chair. Was she challenging him? Daring him even?

She winked at him.

Tom wanted to laugh out loud at the gesture but knew that she had intended for only him to see her encouragement. Folding his arms across his chest in a downright cocky manner, he shrugged slightly. "I was just thinking that it really is true what they say, Captain."

Her eyes were sparkling with delight that he hadn't backed down. "What's that, Mister Paris?"

There was a singular moment of silence before he took the ultimate plunge.

"Prison really does change people."

There was an audible thump as Harry dropped his head all the way down to his station. But Tom only had eyes for her, watching intently as her lips pursed together, and for a single moment he thought she just _might_ not be able to hold back the laugh that was threatening to break free…but she was Kathryn Janeway, after all, and she did manage to swallow the beaming smile that he would have paid good money to see.

"Well, Tom," she said her voice sounding incredibly strained, "_you_ would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

He didn't try at all to conceal his now broadening grin. "That I would, ma'am."

She gave him a short nod and indicated the conn with one hand. "Perhaps you should concentrate on flying for awhile."

"Aye, Captain," he said, happily turning back to his controls. God, he'd missed her.


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay here's another to finish out the weekend...tomorrow is back to work so unfortunately only one update a day during the week. Thank you for all the encouragement and feedback and I hope you continue to enjoy! _

* * *

Chakotay stared at the ready room doors now concealing _Voyager_'s captain. It should no longer surprise him that she could surprise him…but it did. And she could.

And she had.

But it also left him worried. Her outright defiance of Starfleet orders was so completely out of character he was barely keeping himself seated. She had left the bridge in his hands almost an hour before with the announcement that she wanted to meet with the senior staff in two hours, and since that time, despite his best efforts, his eyes had barely left their study of the ready room doors.

Someone coughed, and Chakotay immediately looked towards the helm expecting to see Tom grinning at him, but he wasn't. The helmsman didn't even appear to have been distracted. Chakotay glanced around the rest of the bridge, but caught no eyes on him. Sam had her back to him as she input data into the science console, Harry seemed to be studying readouts of some sort, and only upon second glance did Tuvok look up and meet Chakotay's questioning look with one of his own.

To hell with it.

Chakotay got to his feet, soundlessly handing off control of the bridge to Tuvok, and made his way towards the ready room doors. The chime had barely sounded when she bade him enter.

She looked up from the replicator and seemed almost startled to see him enter but recovered quickly and offered him a smile. "What can I do for you, Commander?"

"Making up for lost time?" he joked, gesturing towards the entire pot of coffee she held in her hands.

She grinned and poured herself a cup. "Having finally gotten over my caffeine addiction due to my, shall we say, much restricted source of supply…one would think that I would not want to reestablish my habit." Taking a hearty drink from her steaming mug, she continued. "But, truthfully, I wouldn't give this up for all the latinum on Ferenginar."

He laughed lightly before venturing onto his real reason for entering her ready room. "So, when should we expect to hear back from Admiral Nechayev?"

Most of the joy left Janeway's expression as she took her seat behind the desk. "They're expecting us at 0800 tomorrow. I have the distinct feeling I won't be sleeping late in the morning."

Chakotay sunk into the chair across from her, still trying to get a handle on her mostly cavalier attitude. "Kathryn…what's going on with you?"

She leaned back in her chair, still sipping her coffee. "You don't approve?"

"I don't disapprove…I just don't…get it," he tried to explain. "Why do this? Why antagonize them?"

"Playing by their rules didn't work, Chakotay," she clipped out, her words harsh sounding but almost whispered.

She paused before continuing, and he recognized that she had censored herself. Whatever she said next would be a much more refined version of whatever she was actually thinking.

"They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results." She smiled grimly. "I've been called reckless more than once, but with the exception of a few isolated incidents in the Delta Quadrant, I like to believe I'm not crazy. So, no, I don't really have any desire to do things _their_ way this time." She shrugged gamely. "Besides, it's not like I'm expecting a long and fruitful career to blossom after this mission. I'm done, Chakotay. I may as well go out on my own terms."

Chakotay frowned. "Go out?"

"Finish my career as I see fit," she amended.

It sounded to him like there was a lot more to her statement than just the end of a career, but before he had a chance to press her on it, the chime for her door sounded once again. The counselor that had come on board with Kathryn entered and immediately looked ill at ease to find Chakotay sitting there.

"Commander," she acknowledged him before focusing on Janeway. "I didn't think I'd be interrupting."

"You aren't," Janeway assured her, silencing Chakotay before he could refute her. "The commander was just checking on me."

Meghan looked skeptical and Chakotay couldn't blame her, but he stood to leave. "Old habits die hard, Counselor."

"Among other things," she replied as they exchanged places.

Chakotay wanted to question that statement, but caught the glare Kathryn was now focusing on the young counselor and felt he'd be better off chatting with the counselor later. However, given the fact that the counselor was now blithely returning the captain's glare with one of her own made him wonder if he'd ever see her again. He made a quick exit with the distinct feeling that neither of the women would even notice his departure.

The doors hissed closed, and Meghan smirked. "He thinks you're going to blow me out an airlock."

"I haven't completely discounted the possibility."

Meghan sank into the vacated seat across from Kathryn. "He's a good man."

"Yes, he is," she agreed easily. "What's your point?"

"He deserves to know."

"Know what?" Kathryn clipped out.

"That you love him."

Kathryn's face softened the slightest of degrees. "He will."

Meghan raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I'm going to tell him."

"In person? Face to face? Not some post-mortem message?" Meghan clarified.

Kathryn sat back in her chair, her expression once again hardening. She had, in fact, considered leaving him a message to play after all was said and done, but that had just seemed too cowardly. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going to tell him over dinner."

Meghan regarded her for a moment. "What made you change your mind?"

"Change my mind about what?" she sighed, recognizing Meghan was in counselor mode.

"You considered leaving him a message," she stated knowingly. "I assume you're leaving the others some sort of conciliatory after-the-fact messages from yourself." Meghan felt Kathryn's spike of frustrated energy at her correct assumption. "So why is he different?"

Kathryn's temper simmered. "I really don't have time for a counseling session right now, Meghan. I have a staff briefing in less than an hour that I need to prepare for."

"Oh, please," Meghan rolled her eyes. "You've known what you were going to say to them in that briefing for two days. Ever since you planned this whole thing out." Leaning forward, her elbows on her thighs, she asked, "Why won't you tell me about him, Kathryn?"

"Because _he_ is none of your business," Kathryn hissed, "and my feelings for him have _nothing_ to do with our counseling sessions."

Meghan snorted, sitting back in her chair. "You don't _actually_ believe that, do you?"

"Believe _what_?"

"What were your first thoughts when they 'offered' you this mission?"

"I don't have time for this."

Meghan ignored her. "You wondered about him. Would you be able to see him again? Had he moved on without you? Would he be happy to see you?"

"That's enough," Kathryn growled.

"Acceptance. Repression. Denial. Guilt. Everything our counseling sessions _should_ be about lead back to him, Kathryn." Meghan met her ice cold glare. "You've _made_ your feelings for him my business."

Kathryn was seething. The last thing she needed right now was to examine the very personal insecurities she had been dealing with for eight years. She had a mission to complete, personnel to brief, reports to approve, and diagnostics to check. In short, she had a ship to run. Her personal crises were hardly worthy of scrutiny, especially since they would be a moot point in four or so days anyway.

But she knew that, like so many things, she and Meghan would not see eye to eye on this. She needed to distract the counselor's attention away from herself. She shifted through a few PADD's on her desk, finally finding the one she was looking for and making a show of thumbing it on. She knew she had Meghan's attention, and she allowed certain words and phrases to tumble through her mind as she read.

_Captured…held prisoner by Cardassians…forced to endure…injuries…rescued… _

Meghan frowned. Janeway's time with the Cardassians had been one of the subjects she'd actually been willing to discuss during their sessions. It had been an old wound for her that even she had recognized she probably should have received counseling for. Why was she reading a report about that now?

_Betazed…Sentok Nor…experiments…Crell Moset…_

Cold recognition slammed into Meghan, stealing her breath. "What the hell are you reading?"

Kathryn looked up and noticed immediately how pale the young counselor had become. Guilt flared inside her that she hadn't provoked Meghan strictly for professional reasons, but she quickly buried the feeling as she responded. "Your personnel file. Considering the fact that you're a civilian, I was surprised at how detailed your file actually was." She paused long enough to thumb the PADD off and set it down. "I won't pretend that our experiences were identical, but you and I have more in common than you've led me to believe, Counselor."

"You have no right," Meghan hissed, getting to her feet. She could feel herself trembling she was so enraged.

"I'm the captain of this ship, and you are a member of my crew. It's important that I know about my crews' pasts. It helps me know how they will react in any given situation. You made it my right."

Meghan forcefully slammed a mental shield down on unwanted memories that were threatening to surface. This was hardly a mission taking place during the Dominion War. "Expecting to run into Cardassians on this mission, Captain?" she snarled.

"The last mission I went on was supposed to only be for three weeks, and it went on for seven years." She smiled grimly, a small attempt to deflect the Betazoid's understandable ire. "I like to be prepared."

Regaining a bit of control, Meghan could tell Janeway wasn't nearly as comfortable with their current topic of conversation as she was pretending to be, but she also sensed relief. Meghan rallied, "Think you can get rid of me that easily, Kathryn? Mention my past, and I'll leave you alone about yours?"

"No," Kathryn allowed, "but I hoped it might earn me a reprieve."

Meghan hated to admit it, but she couldn't stay. Until she could get a moment alone, her emotional control was tenuous at best. She nodded. "It will, at that. If you'll excuse me, Captain. We'll continue our session later."

She left the ready room, avoiding the bridge by using the door that led into the corridor. This crew was way too observant, and the last thing Meghan needed right now was for one of them to ask her if she was all right. She wasn't. She was shaken. She had not been at all prepared for that piece of her past to come up and smack her in the face this morning, and she was going to need a few minutes alone to calm herself.

And damn Janeway for doing it, but Meghan had to admit, the woman was good. Not only had she gotten the focus off of herself, but she had also pushed Meghan and gotten the reaction she'd been expecting. Janeway's thoughts had been triumphant, not because she'd avoided talking about Chakotay, well not _only_ because of that, but more because Meghan hadn't crumbled.

It had been a shock to her system to be so blatantly confronted about something so horrific, but within minutes, Meghan had rallied and struck back. Just as Janeway had suspected she would. Just as Janeway knew how her crew would respond if, or more likely, _when_ something bad happened.

Hitting the button to call the turbolift, Meghan admitted to herself she understood a bit better how Janeway's previous counselors had left their sessions in tears. Janeway had definitely won that round.

* * *

"Mind if I join you?"

Meghan's head shot up at the question to find Commander Chakotay standing beside her table, holding a tray in one hand and looking down at her. Heat rushed into her cheeks and she wondered just how long he had been standing there. "Oh…uhm, sure." She indicated the chair across from her. "But…I was just about–"

"To leave?" he suggested, an amused smile appearing on his face. "Why would you leave? You've hardly even touched your…what are you eating?"

They both stared at the blue puddle-like concoction on her plate that somewhat resembled melted ice cream.

"To tell you the truth, Commander, I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "It was listed under Talaxian delicacies."

Experimentally, Chakotay reached a finger out to her fork and tried to move it, but it seemed to be cemented in the puddle. "At least I can understand why you aren't finishing your meal." He straightened and picked up his own fork. "What prompted you to try something Talaxian?"

"I've picked up a lot of warm thoughts about…Neelix, is it?" she said hesitantly. Chakotay nodded that her pronunciation was correct, so she continued, "Many of your crew relate him to his food so I thought I'd try a Talaxian dish." She shook her head. "Mister Chell has a very strange sense of taste if he actually thinks this is good."

Chakotay laughed. He pointed at her plate. "If you think that's bad, can you imagine how much worse it got when Chell took over the kitchen and became our chef?"

Meghan's stomach rolled, and she didn't quite know if it was in sympathy or because she had actually tried a few bites of the blue sludge. She watched as the Commander took a few bites of his admittedly much better looking lunch. She considered replicating something else, but wasn't sure if anything else she ate would agree with her at this point. She pushed back from her tray instead. "Aren't you supposed to be in a staff briefing?"

"Just got out," he replied, wiping his napkin across his mouth. "You know, you could attend. You are considered to be part of the senior staff."

She scoffed, "No, thank you. I know quite enough about this mission."

He straightened. "You were with the Captain when she received the orders?"

Meghan nodded warily, sensing his deep concern about the nature of the mission.

"So you know the whole story?" he asked, a little too nonchalantly.

His eyes were on his food, but she knew his attention was zeroed in on her. Knowing he was trained in interrogation and interview techniques, she hesitated before answering noncommittally. "I was there."

His eyes flicked quickly to the doors leading to the corridors and then around the room, assessing in one glance whether anyone was within earshot. He nudged his tray forward and folded his arms on the edge of the table. "Did it happen the way she says it did?"

Meghan eyed him, eavesdropping on his thoughts as he remembered Kathryn's speech at their colony. She didn't know if he was recounting Kathryn's speech for her benefit or his own, but she had to admit that Janeway had walked a fine line of telling her crew the truth while also omitting a few of the more particular details. She was surprised he was being so forthright about asking her for details. She had been expecting a more subtle approach. Still…she found she actually preferred his directness. "The admiralty offered Kathryn the reinstatement of her commission and a full pardon in exchange for her accepting this mission."

His mind was quick to pick up the details. "But nothing about us?"

She shook her head. "No, the exile for you was lifted only after Kathryn renegotiated the deal."

"Renegotiated?"

Meghan smirked. "She gave them an ultimatum."

He looked disappointed but not surprised. "What was this ultimatum?"

"She told them that if they didn't do it her way, they could send her back to prison."

He shook his head and sat back again. "She shouldn't have done that."

Meghan had seen his eyes darken with anger at the news of Kathryn's actions. She chuckled lightly, feeling as though she'd met a kindred spirit. "I think she refers to it as captain's prerogative."

She took a sip of the juice she had replicated and choked on it when she heard his thoughts.

_She's hiding something from me._

She began coughing and put the glass down on the table, waving off his unsure offer of help. "I'm…fine." She barely managed to squeak out a reassurance to him. "It just…went down…wrong."

His thoughts were now completely focused on her well-being, and she had no idea if his realization had been about her or about Kathryn.

Meghan stood up, still coughing slightly and noticing that more than one person's attention was now focused in their direction. She motioned towards the doors. "I'm just…going to go."

He stood up. "I'll walk with you."

"No." She held out a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Really, I'm fine. I just need to uhm…I have an appointment," she lied, nodding too much, "waiting for me…at my…quarters."

A frown creased his forehead. "I wasn't aware you were actually counseling people."

There was a reason she never lied. She wasn't any good at it. _Of course,_ he would know if she was counseling people on _Voyager_. He _was_ the damn first officer of the ship. "Just a couple of…of people have expressed an…interest, but K-Kathryn takes up the majority of my…time." She frowned and then realized what she had just said. "Not that she needs a lot of counseling! No, I don't mean that…I just meant…oh hell."

A slow smile spread across Chakotay's face. "Counselor, my door is always open."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked now feeling tired and utterly confused at his amusement.

He actually laughed. "Anyone that spends hours with Kathryn Janeway, trying to get her to talk about her feelings deserves a shoulder to cry on and a stiff drink."

Meghan relaxed, feeling that perhaps she had finally met a fellow veteran of a Janeway stonewall. "I don't cry, Commander," she picked up her tray, "but I may take you up on the drink."

He gave her a nod of profound understanding, but even as she made a quick exit she could feel his resolve to talk to her again about Kathryn. She had a sinking feeling he would not be easy to avoid.

* * *

Pinching the bridge of her nose at how much of an imbecile she'd been, Meghan slowly made her way down the corridor, heading for her assigned quarters. She hadn't disobeyed Janeway's order not to tell anyone anything, but she had certainly given the Commander more than enough to suspect something. And if he confronted Kathryn about it, as he was most certainly apt to do, Meghan knew her name would come up and there would be hell to pay.

But then that was just Janeway's own damned fault. Meghan was a civilian, damn it. What did she care if Kathryn _thought_ she had disobeyed orders? It wasn't like she could be reduced in rank since she didn't have one, and it certainly wasn't as though Kathryn herself hadn't disobeyed orders from time to time. So, really, it didn't matter at all what Janeway thought.

Except that it did.

The last thing Meghan wanted to do was cause Kathryn to think she had been betrayed. She'd certainly had more than enough of that in the past year to last a lifetime. It was a wonder she had begun to trust Meghan at all. But if Meghan went back now and asked Chakotay to not mention any of this to her, that would just make him even more suspicious. No, despite her overwhelming desire to do so, she would just have to suck it up and not drop any more hints to anyone else about the true nature of this mission.

And then assuming Kathryn lived through it, Meghan would do everything in her power to bring the woman she knew back from whatever brink the distortion drove her to. She'd brought herself back from the edge, with a little help from Deanna; she could bring Kathryn back as well if need be.

Nodding to herself as she rounded the corner of the corridor, she began feeling better. Not only had she decided on a better plan of action for dealing with Janeway, but she had also found her way back to her quarters for the first time without having to ask the ship's computer for directions. For the first time since she boarded the ship, she almost felt a sense of relief.

Until all the lights in the corridor dimmed, klaxons began blaring and the corridors were bathed in flashing red light. Meghan felt like all the air rushed from her lungs as a roaring sound filled her ears.

_Flickering lights. Smoke filling the air. Sparks cascading all around her._

***…all hands this is the Captain, there is a warp core breach in progress. Proceed to the nearest emergency escape pod. I am giving the order to abandon ship…I repeat-***

_Metal screeched as it tore itself apart. Heat from the flames rushed over her skin.._

Meghan stumbled, falling against the bulkhead for support. No! This was _not_ happening. Not now. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes hard enough to blot out the flashing lights and tried to take in a breath. She was on _Voyager_. She was fine. This was not Sentok Nor. She was not injured.

A hand wrapped around her bicep, and Meghan almost screamed.

"Are you all right?"

The tight grip on her arm shook her slightly and she dropped her hands from her face, the spots dancing in her eyes clearing slowly. The red lights in the corridor were still blinking on and off in a metronome like manner that made her want to vomit, but there was no smoke. No fire. And certainly no one screaming and yelling in pain. The only thing she did see was the ridged forehead of the chief engineer.

***-this is only a drill. Report to your assigned escape pods.* **

"Counselor." B'Elanna's voice was firm and she looked at Meghan questioningly. "Are you hurt?"

Meghan looked up and down the corridor and heard no panicked thoughts. Saw no one running. It was only the half-Klingon in front of her whose thoughts were as loud and clear as the captain's voice on the shipwide comm. "It's just a…drill?"

B'Elanna nodded warily. "Didn't you hear the announcement?"

Beginning to feel incredibly stupid, Meghan took in a shaky breath. "I heard part of it."

The engineer frowned, not entirely sure what to make of that statement then gave her head a brief shake. "I'm taking you to sickbay."

Dread filled Meghan's stomach, and she shook her head. "No. I…I'm fine, really." She straightened, trying to pull herself together. "I'm sure you have other things you're supposed to be doing right now, so really you don't need to worry about me."

B'Elanna snorted and began dragging Meghan with her as she stalked towards the turbolift. "I won't make you go to sickbay, but I'm not letting you out of my sight. You'll just have to come to engineering with me." Meghan started to protest but B'Elanna cut her off. "Forget it, Counselor. Just try to stay out of the way." She hit her comm. badge. "Torres to Janeway."

*Go ahead, B'Elanna.*

"Captain, Counselor Vance is with me and we're headed to engineering."

There was a hesitation before Janeway replied. *Understood, B'Elanna. You've got two minutes and forty seconds. Get moving.*

"Ackowledged." B'Elanna closed the comm. line.

"What happens in two minutes?" Meghan asked, despising the weakness she could still hear in her own voice.

B'Elanna shrugged. "The ship will explode and we'll have lost all hands that didn't make it to escape pods." She glanced sideways at the counselor. "Simulated, of course."

Meghan shrugged back trying desperately to look indifferent. "Of course."

The turbolift slid to a halt and B'Elanna barreled towards engineering, dragging the counselor with her. As the doors to the heart of the ship opened, she pointed Meghan towards the console nearest the door. "Stay there. Monitor the countdown. If we hit thirty seconds, let me know. Vorik! What the hell are you still doing here?" she bellowed at the Vulcan science officer working at a console. "Never mind, what have we got?"

Meghan stared for a minute, watching dazedly as the engineers' hands flew over the consoles before remembering she had a job. She glanced down at the console. Forty-five seconds remained on the countdown.

*Janeway to Torres. What's our status?*

Meghan was surprised when B'Elanna didn't answer the hail. She glanced down again and called out, "Thirty seconds!"

The half-Klingon engineer gave a slight nod to indicate that she'd heard but kept working. Meghan didn't care if it was a simulation; she could feel sweat rolling down her back in nervous anticipation. She watched the numbers on the clock continue to wind down until finally she heard what sounded like a large motor shutting down, and B'Elanna's hand slapped the console she had been working on.

"Take that, Tuvok!" she growled before reaching triumphantly for her comm. badge. "Torres to the bridge. The breach has been contained. All systems returning to normal."

Janeway sounded relieved when she answered. *Well done, B'Elanna. Harry, stand down red alert.*

All the lights in engineering returned to normal, and Meghan felt safe enough to leave the corner she'd been relegated to and join the engineers at the console they were working on. She had no idea what the schematics they had pulled up showed, but briefly listening to their thoughts, she knew that they were analyzing what they could have done differently.

An overlay image of the ship pulled up, and B'Elanna pointed at a junction point. "Right there. That's what he did different. That sneaky, green-blooded…" she trailed off when she realized Meghan was standing next to her.

"Pointy-eared?" Meghan suggested, but then they both looked sheepishly at Vorik.

"Shall I report our findings to the bridge?" he asked, apparently choosing to ignore their impropriety.

"No," B'Elanna said, accepting the PADD from him. "I'd rather go tell him myself."

"Of course, Lieutenant."

B'Elanna frowned at him slightly, watching as he picked up a stray tricorder on the way to his normal workstation. "You did good work, Vorik, but next time you better evacuate."

"Of course, Lieutenant," he called back over his shoulder.

B'Elanna smiled after him and gestured for Meghan to follow her as she made her way out of engineering. It was only once they were on the turbolift that Meghan finally asked, "Why is there such a sense of relief if this was only a drill?"

B'Elanna scoffed. "Are you kidding? If Tuvok had succeeded in blowing up the ship, he'd have us running drills for the next three days straight. The Captain would _not_ have been pleased, and Tom would've never let me live it down."

The lift stopped and the former Borg drone, Seven of Nine, joined them. She gave a rather imperious nod to the counselor before addressing B'Elanna. "I was relieved you were able to 'rescue' us, Lieutenant."

"Did you doubt me, Seven?"

"I believe the phrase 'in the nick of time' applied. Perhaps next time you can make the rescue more efficient."

"Perhaps next time, I'll make sure your escape pod has an atmospheric leak."

Despite the words the two women were spitting at each other, Meghan could easily hear the underlying amusement they each had in their thoughts. She could easily imagine a time though when the arguments had not been so mutually respectful.

The turbolift opened, depositing the three of them onto the bridge, allowing B'Elanna to report to their waiting captain. Meghan flushed. She had not intended to encounter Kathryn again quite so soon. As B'Elanna and Seven talked technical with Janeway, Meghan drifted towards the other turbolift, hoping to make a discreet exit.

"It won't work."

Meghan looked up to find Tom Paris smiling at her as he leaned his folded arms on the railing in front of the ops console. The dark haired Lieutenant Kim was also watching her with amusement. "What won't work?"

The two men exchanged a glance. "Sneaking out," Harry answered, his eyes briefly flicking towards the turbolift. "If you leave now, she'll just ask you to report back to her ready room."

"It's probably better if you just talk to her now while you're both on the bridge…you know, in the company of witnesses," Tom suggested.

She couldn't help her eyes darting over towards Janeway. "You two act like I'm in some sort of trouble."

They exchanged another glance and Harry shrugged. "If B'Elanna hadn't called when she did, the Captain would've lost part of her wager with Tuvok."

"She doesn't like to lose," Tom whispered as though he were imparting a big secret but then went on to explain. "Tuvok suggested they should have more than one drill because it had been over a year since the majority of us have been on a ship. She said it wasn't necessary and that everyone would be accounted for with two minutes to spare." Tom shrugged again. "You were the only one that wasn't where you were supposed to be."

"I don't even _know_ where I'm supposed to be," she replied.

"Don't let Tuvok hear you say that," Harry muttered, then raised his head and his voice as Janeway approached the three of them. "All systems back to normal, Captain. Everyone but Tom here has reported in from their regular duty stations."

Tom rolled his eyes at Harry before catching the Captain's raised eyebrow and moved to return to the helm.

"Counselor," Janeway said, looking at Meghan as she ascended the short ramp to the upper portion of the bridge. "I'd like to thank you for your assistance in engineering. B'Elanna assures me you performed an integral duty and helped us achieve a timely victory."

Meghan almost snorted at the idea that she had done something more than call out a time, but she was suddenly very aware that all attention on the bridge was focused on her. _All_ the attention. Slowly, she turned, seeing Tom's silent pleading, Chakotay's amused grin, B'Elanna's urging eyes, and Tuvok's refined, questioning scrutiny.

A single one of his eyebrows rose in her direction, and in that moment she knew he knew. The unshakeable chief of security was simply waiting to see if she'd play along. Meghan cleared her throat and turned back to Kathryn, whose blue eyes were laughing and appeared lighter than Meghan had ever seen them.

"I was just glad I could be of service, Captain."


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimers and such can be found in the prologue_

* * *

Kathryn paced the small confines of the turbolift as it ferried her to deck three. She hated being late. Circumstances hadn't really been preventable, but still, she considered it incredibly bad form to be an hour late to an appointment she herself had set. She could only hope Chakotay hadn't given up and gone ahead and eaten dinner without her.

It had been generally understood over the years that he should, in fact, do just that when she got busy with ship-related business. The cosmos knew he may never eat if he waited on her all the time, but tonight was supposed to have been different. And she really hoped he had waited. If not, she'd just have to call him over for a nightcap.

Punching in the code for her door, she was overwhelmed by a spicy, aromatic wave that had her mouth watering. She looked immediately for the source and found that Chakotay had made himself comfortable while he'd been waiting, and that instead of simply replicating dinner, he'd gone all out.

"You're late," he chided, waving a chopping knife in her direction, "and you haven't changed the access codes for your door."

"I can't change the codes." She sauntered towards him, the smile on her face impossible to hold back. "If I did, I might never come home to such a pleasant surprise as this."

He offered her a chunk of warm bread dipped in oil and spices. "Do you really think a different code could keep me out?"

Chewing thoughtfully on the piece of bread, Kathryn felt a delightful shiver race up her spine as his eyes held hers. A drop of oil ran down her finger and she licked it off before replying, "I certainly hope not."

His smoldering eyes had followed her mouth like a hawk, his own tongue moistening his lips as she'd cleaned the stray oil from her hand. Recovering somewhat, he gestured towards her bedroom. "Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes, if you'd like to change clothes."

She looked down at her uniform and wholeheartedly agreed with his implied suggestion. If the sparks between them kept up like this for the entire meal, she certainly didn't want to be in her uniform when it came time for dessert. Moving towards the bedroom, she threw back over her shoulder, "I guess I'm not really late then if I still have ten minutes to spare."

"You're late," he answered back loud enough for her to hear him. "You just deprived yourself of a couple of glasses of Picard's finest merlot."

She tried not to groan loud enough for him to hear at how good that sounded. A deep glass of that heavenly concoction would be just what she needed right now. Shimmying out of her pants, she frowned at his choice of vineyard. "You've been exiled from Earth for the past year. How did you manage to get your hands on a bottle of that?"

"I was exiled, Kathryn. Not dead."

His voice drifting to her from the other room made her smile, but oh how she wished he was in the bedroom with her instead of out there. Opening the closet, she cursed herself again for being late. She hadn't bothered replicating very many new outfits in the past several days, but she had been planning on getting herself something new to wear for this evening. That was out the window now that he had the replicator locked up with their dinner. Settling on a simple dark blue pants suit, Kathryn slipped the pants over her legs, taking a moment to revel in the soft feel of the fabric as it slid over her skin. After wearing prison garb for a year, she was still enjoying the feel of clothes that hadn't been recycled en masse.

She happily shed the layers of her uniform top, rolling her shoulders as the weight of the uniform and the expectations it carried with it left her. Feeling a bit undecided at just how many buttons she wanted to leave undone on the shirt, she moved to the mirror to examine her look. Her breath caught in her throat, and she forgot all about the buttons when she saw his reflection. He was slouched against her bedroom door frame, holding a glass of red wine in one hand.

Straightening a bit when he realized she was staring back at him, he extended the glass towards her. "Thought I'd save you some time and bring you a glass."

"Uh huh," she said, turning away from the mirror to face him, "and just how _much_ time did you save me?"

His eyes flicked to her chest and back up to her face before answering. "Enough to know your uniform today wasn't entirely regulation."

So he'd at least seen her bra. She moved closer to him, accepting the glass of wine. A distinctive oak scent drifted between them from the glass. "As far as that's concerned, Chakotay… I've _never_ been regulation."

Her eyes never left his as she took a sip of the wine, catching an errant drop on her lips with her tongue when she lowered the glass. Even in the pale light, she could see his eyes darken and focus on her mouth. For a highly-charged second, she thought they might not even make it to dinner; he looked ready to devour her. Then the replicator beeped, and they both jumped slightly, breaking the spell.

"I should probably get that," he muttered, his voice sounding strained.

Kathryn nodded, following behind him and scowling at the replicator. She'd no idea the infernal piece of machinery hated her _that_ much. Before this mission was over, she swore to dismantle it permanently.

Taking a seat at the table, she sipped her wine and watched him add the finishing touches to their meal. She had to admit, the mouth-watering aromas coming from the food had reminded her strongly of how hungry she was. Tuvok's ill-timed drill had come right as she had replicated a bowl of pasta soup in her ready room. By the time she got back to it, she'd simply recycled the stone cold food and ordered a coffee.

"So, what kept you today?" Chakotay asked, bringing a tray of pasta to the table that was still hot enough that the cheese was bubbling.

"The usual," she answered lightly. "After the drill, I met with Tuvok and then with B'Elanna."

"And you and B'Elanna got to talking…" he supplied, grinning.

Kathryn nodded. "And while we were talking for far longer than I'd expected, the Doctor tracked me down. He wants me to come in for a full physical."

"Why?" he asked, heaping a serving of the lasagna onto her plate.

"He doesn't think the facility's medical screenings were quite as thorough as his would be." She laid her napkin across her lap. "Personally, I think he's just bored and counting on me to give him a good chase." She speared a chunk of vegetable that had toppled out of her steaming stack of noodles and sauce. "This smells heavenly, Chakotay."

"Thank you," he said, shaking out his own napkin. "Most of the vegetables I used were fresh and not replicated. Despite what they say, I think that can make a difference."

"I may have to agree with you, although in my case it wouldn't matter either way," she joked. "It would come out black and smoking regardless of how I tried it." She pointed a fork towards the replicator. "You'd think that after all this time away from me that replicator would be a bit more accommodating."

"No?" he asked, his eyes dancing with mirth. "It worked fine for me this evening."

"So I noticed." She swirled her wine a bit, enjoying the roasted vegetables he'd diced in the sauce. "Well, in any case, as long as it continues to give me my coffee, I'll refrain from ripping it out of the bulkhead."

"I'll be sure and let it know."

After several minutes of occupied silence, Chakotay mentioned, "I had lunch with your friend today."

"My friend?" she asked, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin.

"Meghan."

"Oh." Kathryn reached for her wine. "How did she seem?"

Chakotay frowned at the odd question. "She seemed a little reserved, but she loosened up a bit the longer we talked."

Warning bells went off in the back of Kathryn's mind at the idea of Meghan loosening up around Chakotay. It wouldn't take much for him to know something more was going on than she was telling him. She pushed a small chunk of pepper around her plate with her fork. "What did you talk about?"

"If you must know," he chuckled, "we mostly talked about you."

"Me," Kathryn repeated then huffed, "I shudder to think what the good counselor had to say about me today."

"What do you mean?"

Kathryn pushed her mostly empty plate forward on the table, draping her napkin over it. "I was a bit…_harsh_ with her earlier today."

He thought back on his conversation with the counselor but nothing made him think she was overly upset. "She seemed all right with you on the bridge after the drill."

"Yes, well that was in front of people. I'm sure if we had been alone the interaction would've been a bit cooler." She folded her hands in her lap and sat back. "I actually had intended to go by and check on her this evening, but as you know, time got away from me."

"I think she's probably all right," he allowed. "What did you say to her that was so bad?"

Something flashed briefly in Kathryn's eyes but was gone just as quick as she pushed away from the table, making her way towards the replicator. "I pressed her on a topic from her past that she didn't want to talk about." She paused in her explanation to order a coffee and a tea from the replicator. "Strictly speaking, it's probably none of my business, but my captain's prerogative got the better of me."

Chakotay accepted the tea without even thinking about it. His mind had jumped at the familiar phrase he'd heard Meghan say earlier. "Captain's prerogative, huh?" he repeated then couldn't keep himself from continuing, "I understand you've been using that a lot lately."

Kathryn's eyebrows drew closer together as she frowned. "What do you mean?"

He set the tea down and regarded her across the table. "I know about your deal with Starfleet, Kathryn."

Kathryn's mouth went dry, and she cradled her mug a bit tighter between her hands. "I see. I suppose Meghan told you, did she?"

Chakotay shook his head at her. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I did what I thought was best," she justified.

"Just like you always do," he snorted. "You know Kathryn, every now and then, you can do what's best for you. You don't _always_ have to play the martyr."

"I don't _want_ to be a martyr, Chakotay, but I felt in this situation the choices were pretty clear cut," she argued. "So at the very least, I tried to make the best of what I had in front of me."

"You're unbelievable." He stood up, grabbing dishes from the table and stacking them to be recycled. "I can't believe you're doing this _again_."

"Just what exactly is it that you think I'm doing?" she asked angrily, getting to her feet as well.

"Kathryn, there is not a single person on this ship that would have wanted you to go to prison on their behalf–"

She stiffened at the old argument. "I was the captain, Chakotay. Just like I am now. This crew is my responsibility–"

"Damn it, Kathryn!" His fist hit the table in frustration, jarring the stack of plates. "This is more than just a crew. It's more than just a ship with a captain. We're a _family,_ and _you_ are a part of that family. We face things _together_. That's how we beat _every_ foe in the Delta Quadrant and that's how we would have beaten Starfleet!" He turned his back to her, taking in several deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down. "We could have gone to the media, we could have stood together and made them sentence all of us, but by going behind our backs to them and making that deal, you took that chance away from us," he sighed, his head dropping resignedly. "You took it away from us and you didn't even tell us about it." Turning back to her he said, "You didn't even tell _me_, Kathryn."

"You would've tried to talk me out of it," she admitted quietly, "and I couldn't allow that to happen. I wasn't…strong enough to face you."

His face twisted in consternation at her reply. "And what about this time, Kathryn? Starfleet could've said no."

Now she was confused. "Chakotay, what are you talking about?"

"Meghan told me about the deal you made, about how you told the admirals they could send you back to prison if they didn't release the exile condition on the Maquis."

In the space of the thirty seconds he had been talking, Kathryn's emotions had gone from furious, to relieved, and finally to guilty. He was this upset because of her offer to stay in prison rather than let the Maquis continue to be exiled. He had no idea she was actually going to be sacrificing her life. She swore under her breath at herself. Up until this point, she'd hoped the evening would be recoverable. Now she knew the only way to get him to see why she had acted the way she had with the admiralty would be to tell him the truth. But if she told him the truth…

"Kathryn."

She started at his voice and felt a flush creep into her cheeks. He'd been watching her closely. Too closely.

"What aren't you telling me, Kathryn?"

She weighed her options. "I…I haven't been completely honest with you about the expected outcome of this mission."

His hands settled on his hips. "Go on."

"I didn't tell Starfleet they could send me back to prison because I thought they might. I knew they wouldn't. They needed me too badly for this mission to not agree to my demands."

"How could you be so sure?"

"Because…this spatial distortion is asking for me by name." She paused and looked him in the eye. "_I'm_ the one it wants."

Kathryn could see the muscle in his cheek as he clenched his jaw at her admission. Her ingrained command training was the only thing that kept her from spilling everything to him as his dark eyes held hers and the silence in the room grew considerably thicker.

With supreme effort, Chakotay managed to keep his voice civil. "What do you mean it _wants_ you?"

"We're not entirely sure," she admitted, surprised when all Chakotay did was blink at that revelation. "Each ship that has encountered it has come away a bit worse for the wear. Each one of the captains has been possessed similarly to how I was upon our first encounter with the distortion, and upon waking they've each asked for me by name."

He ran his hand over his face and paced the length of the table. "When were you planning on telling me all this, Kathryn?" He looked at her over his shoulder. "And don't tell me that you weren't."

She opened her mouth but nothing came out so she closed it again.

He turned to face her. "Kathryn, don't tell me that you weren't intending to disclose to your first officer that not only was the ship going to be placed in danger but the captain herself was going to be facing personal risk." He circled the table until he was standing in front of her. "Don't tell me that you had no intentions of discussing this with your senior staff…with _me_."

She had to look up to see his eyes he was standing so close. "I was going to address the possible repercussions to the ship tomorrow morning at the staff meeting. I'm still waiting–"

"The repercussions to the _ship_," he spat, "but not to yourself."

Kathryn nodded and admitted, "I hadn't fully decided what to tell you yet concerning my role in this." He let out a noise of disgust and walked away from her. "Because it doesn't matter, Chakotay. This mission has to go on with or without inherent danger to myself."

"I want to see the reports."

She hesitated. "What reports?"

His head snapped up, and he glared at her. "Don't play coy with me, Kathryn. I want to see every report you have about this mission. Every ship's log, every medical report, and every captain's log that you were given from command to support this mission." He moved to leave. "And I want to see them tonight, or the first thing I'll do in the morning is resign as your first officer."

"Chakotay, wait," she called, halting his footsteps just before he reached the doors. "I'll…send you everything I have, but…you're not to discuss them with anyone on board this ship."

He stared at her incredulously. "Is that an order, _Captain_?"

She lifted her chin and straightened her back, refusing to allow her reeling emotions to surface. "Yes, Commander, it is."

"Order acknowledged, _ma'am_. Permission to leave?"

Pain lanced through her chest at his cold, unyielding tone, but she managed to nod. "Dismissed."

* * *

_*_Kim to Janeway._*_

Damn it. She'd fallen asleep on the couch. Wincing when she moved her neck, Kathryn reached for her comm. badge. "Go ahead, Harry."

She didn't even try to disguise the sleep in her voice. At one time, it would have bothered her that any crewmember within hearing distance would know she had been asleep at the time of his call, but it really didn't matter to her anymore. She didn't even know what time it was, actually.

*You've got an incoming subspace transmission, Captain. It's Admiral Nechayev.*

Despite her lower back's protesting, she sat up, remembering belatedly that it had only been twenty-four hours since she'd last spoken to the admiral and that at some point yesterday she'd actually been expecting this call. What a difference a day made. "Give me two minutes, Harry, and then patch it through to my quarters."

*Aye, Captain.*

She ran her hand over her face as she pushed up from the couch and headed for the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror only served to confirm that she looked as bad as she felt. She doubted the admiral was going to be in a good mood, but she didn't have time to replicate a new, less wrinkled uniform. A good brush through the hair and a scrubbed face would be about the best she could offer this morning.

The computer console on her desk beeped, signaling the incoming call, and throwing on her uniform jacket, Kathryn took a seat before accepting the communication. Nechayev appeared on the screen, sitting similarly at a desk but looking so crisp and starched that Kathryn assumed the uniform could probably stand at attention by itself. "Good morning, Admiral."

"_C_aptain," Nechayev acknowledged tightly. "Is there something mechanically wrong with _Voyager_ that I should know about?"

Kathryn's forehead wrinkled in consideration before she shook her head tiredly. "No, nothing, Admiral. _Voyager_ is running at full operational status."

"And what about her captain?" she asked with more than a hint of irritation. "Does _Voyager's_ captain recall having a conversation with me yesterday and receiving orders to rendezvous for training with the _USS Columbine_?"

"I am in perfect health, Admiral," Kathryn assured her. "None of my mental processes have been damaged or tampered with since we spoke yesterday morning."

"Then do you mind explaining to me just what in the hell it is you think you're doing, Captain?" Nechayev demanded.

"Admiral," Janeway sighed, "I have no intention of dragging my crew through any training simulations with a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears cadets. We'd fly circles around them and defeat them so thoroughly they'd all rethink their decision to join Starfleet." Nechayev opened her mouth but Kathryn talked over her. "And if you team up my crew with them, I am quite sure we will teach them tactics and decision making processes the admiralty would never approve of."

Nechayev huffed and sat back in her chair, relaxing into a more casual attitude. "You could have told me all of this yesterday, Captain."

Kathryn gave her a weary smile and had the grace to acknowledge the subdued rebuke. "My apologies, Admiral."

"Rivers is ready to send the _Enterprise_ out to be your escort just to ensure that you and the Maquis aren't about to run off with a Federation starship," Nechayev admitted, shaking her head in disgust.

"We would welcome the company, Admiral."

Nechayev snorted. "Not if Rivers was on board the _Enterprise_ when it arrived, you wouldn't."

Kathryn couldn't help grimacing at that idea. Rivers' presence would be toxic. "I hardly think our mission would be enhanced by his presence."

The admiral waved her off. "Don't worry about Rivers. Bulloch will keep him under control." She straightened, signaling she was back to business. "As for _Voyager_, I have received your report and acknowledge that the upgrades you are considering for your mission are worth further investigation. I also acknowledge that testing these procedures required your warp core _and_ communications systems to be offline, preventing you from alerting command to your inability to attend the training exercises that had been scheduled. I hereby order you to continue your maintenance enhancements as long as they do not interfere with your mission of intercepting the spatial distortion at the designated time and coordinates. Do you understand and _accept_ these orders, Captain?"

"Orders received and acknowledged, Admiral. I will ensure that _Voyager's_ delays do not interfere with her mission," Kathryn replied evenly.

"Very well. Attached to this transmission are the reports Bulloch retrieved for you for this mission."

Kathryn's gut clenched at the content of those reports. "Please give Admiral Bulloch my thanks."

"Just don't be late," Nechayev paused, regarding Kathryn closely, "and get some sleep Captain; you look like hell. Nechayev out."

Severing the comm link, Kathryn leaned back in her chair, the muscles in her back and neck reminding her once again of last night. She'd half expected to have sore muscles this morning but not because she had slept on the couch. She sighed heavily, wondering again at how things had managed to go so wrong so fast last night with Chakotay. She rubbed her hand across the back of her neck and stared at the icon confirming she had received a file with the transmission. Wearily, she pushed herself out of the chair. She needed a hot shower, and she needed coffee before she viewed that report because no matter how bad last night had been, she knew…today was going to be even worse.

* * *

Chakotay was the only member of the senior staff already seated at the conference table when Kathryn entered the briefing room. After a few simple good mornings that he remained expressionless throughout, the senior staff settled into their seats rather quickly. Taking their cue from the first officer, the smiles disappeared and the mood of the room turned rather somber.

Kathryn set her coffee mug down on the table as she pulled out her chair. She was quite sure it had also not gone unnoticed that he'd been there before her and more noticeably _without_ her. As she'd entered from her ready room by herself, she had seen Tom's eyes dart quickly between the two of them. As much as she had missed everyone in the room, she had not missed their borderline obsessive scrutiny of her and Chakotay.

"Good morning, I trust everyone slept well," she managed, taking her seat and ignoring the multiple sets of eyes that flicked from her to him and then back again. "As much as I would like for this trip to just be a pleasure cruise for all of us–"

Before she could say anything further, the doors slid open once again, allowing Meghan to enter. She paused when she found all eyes on her. "Good morning. Sorry, I'm late. I wasn't entirely sure where this room was."

As Meghan slid into the vacant chair at the far end of the table, everyone except Chakotay did a quick volley between her and the captain before focusing their collective attention on the center of the table.

"Counselor," Janeway acknowledged with a quick glance in Chakotay's direction. "Is there something we can help you with?"

"No." Meghan shook her head. "This is the mission briefing for the senior staff, right?"

"Yes, but–"

"I told her she was welcome at senior staff meetings, Captain."

Chakotay's plainly offered statement cut off any argument Janeway had been about to make. Her eyes found his for the first time since he'd left her quarters last night, and she saw only stony resolve. He was right, of course, that the ship's counselor would be considered part of the senior staff, but it really hadn't been his call to make. However, there was nothing Kathryn could do about it now.

She turned back to Meghan, not missing the smirk her counselor was giving her. "Try to be on time, Counselor."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Status reports," Janeway demanded, looking to Tuvok and feeling thankful that he would move the conversation back onto a more comfortable and familiar path.

"The crew is doing exceptionally well, considering the complete upheaval of their entire lives to go on this mission," Meghan reported before the Vulcan security chief could even open his mouth. "I'm actually quite amazed at how resilient and accepting they all are. It's like nothing I've ever seen or even heard of before. I really can't decide if it's a big groupthink going on or not, but this really is an amazing crew."

Janeway thought her jaw might've locked up, she ground her teeth together so hard. Tuvok simply raised an eyebrow at the disruption. Seven was not quite as adroit.

"Counselor, you are obviously unaccustomed to working within a hierarchy, and therefore your presence at this meeting so far has been disruptive. While the information you possess concerning crew morale has a substantive value, there are procedures in place that you should learn and follow." Seven glanced uncustomarily at B'Elanna. "If I can adjust to Starfleet life," she looked back at the Betazoid, "so can you. I suggest you do so as soon as possible."

Tom's jaw dropped open, and B'Elanna gaped at Seven. The EMH cleared his throat and shrugged, giving Janeway a rather sheepish smile. "Can you imagine what she would have said a few years ago?"

A nervous laugh escaped from Harry, snapping Janeway out of her astonishment. "Counselor. Thank you…for your report." She looked at Seven. "But as Seven pointed out, we do have a certain established order that we usually follow in these meetings. Reports on the crew's mental health will come after the Doctor gives his status. Understood?"

Meghan nodded agreeably and sat back in her chair, giving Janeway the impression she wasn't the least bit chastised – which Kathryn was sure she wasn't any more than Seven would have been her first year onboard. She glanced at Chakotay, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange. Normally, it would have been him that would have gotten the meeting back on track, but he didn't seem to be feeling very cooperative today. She could only imagine his mood was not going to get any better as the meeting progressed.

Once again, she looked to her older friend. "Tuvok, your report?"

After they'd all gone around the table reporting that everyone and everything onboard the ship was operating at optimal levels, the silence of expectation landed once again on Kathryn. She nodded, accepting that it was time for her to level with them and knowing that they were all expecting something.

"If you'll care to remember, on the planet I alluded to the possibility that this may not be an entirely smooth ride for us. Unfortunately, while the entity's intentions aren't entirely clear there has been damage to other ships that it has encountered."

After a quick look shared between Tom and Harry, B'Elanna spoke up. "I assume you aren't talking about simple databases."

"No, I'm not." Janeway took a breath. "After the_ Shakespeare's_ encounter with the entity, the ship barely had enough power to sustain life support long enough to reach a starbase. All of its systems were malfunctioning, and it was running solely on emergency power."

"And the crew?" the Doctor asked, sounding aghast.

"No one was seriously harmed." She could feel Chakotay's eyes burning into her, but she ignored him, just as she ignored the memory of watching the recording she had received that morning. It had been one thing to hear about a captain's possessed ravings second-hand, but it had been an entirely different experience to watch the_ Shakespeare's_ brig log for herself. Chilling was not a strong enough adjective to describe it. "There were a few injuries from exploding consoles and the like, but all were treatable."

B'Elanna scoffed loudly. "I'm _sorry_, Captain, but you sure picked a hell of a time to share this information with us."

She was impressed that B'Elanna had held her temper as well as she had, considering the engineer had every reason to be angry with her.

"B'Elanna's right, Captain," Tom started. "Why didn't you mention any of this before?"

"Because I was waiting on an intelligence report. I needed to know the outcome of the most recent encounter with the entity before I could brief you fully." She held up her hand to hold off Harry. "The USS _Rathbone_ crossed paths with the entity three days ago. In its databanks was the information concerning _Voyager_ and our planned coordinates. The _Rathbone_ escaped the encounter completely unscathed. All systems functioning and no crew injured. I believe the entity got the message it was looking for."

Tom glanced around the table, quickly reading the faces of his friends. "I still don't understand-"

"I told you I would never put your lives at risk needlessly, Tom. If the entity had shown no signs of intelligence and had proceeded to endanger the crew of the _Rathbone_, I would've halted _Voyager's _progress and using a shuttlecraft, gone forward alone." She paused, taking in all of their expressions. Surprised. Annoyed. Stoic. And Chakotay…still unreadable. She cleared her throat. "But now I don't think that will be necessary. We may not know this thing's true intentions, but I don't believe it's malevolent in nature."

"So you think it's just on some sort of…fact gathering mission?" Harry asked.

_Bring us dead Janeway._ Janeway's eyes flicked to Meghan, wondering if the counselor had yet picked up her repeating memory of the _Shakespeare's_ captain yelling that phrase over and over at the top of his lungs. In response to Harry's question, she nodded. "It hasn't shown otherwise."

She saw Chakotay move out of the corner of her eye and noticed Meghan's gaze dart between the two of them. Kathryn hoped he wasn't going to pick this moment to divulge his newfound knowledge. Turning to B'Elanna, she continued. "However, I don't like to be unprepared. I want you to make every upgrade you can think of to enhance our systems' security, improve our backup power grids, and protect the core."

B'Elanna nodded. "Two and a half days. No problem."

"Any assistance B'Elanna wants or needs – she gets. Understood?"

They all nodded.

"Then that's all I have," Janeway was almost out of her seat when she saw Meghan look pointedly at Tom. Janeway paused, "Unless, there's anything else we need to discuss?" The back of Tom's chair bobbed forwards a little as Harry hit it less than discreetly. "Tom?"

He coughed. "Well, we were thinking about having a party on the holodecks after the mission, but now…I guess with the stronger possibility that we won't have power for that…we should just scrap it."

Judging her audience, Kathryn smiled. "I don't think so. Why don't we simply have it the night before our scheduled rendezvous instead?"

"Captain, I do not believe–"

"At ease, Tuvok. I understand your concerns, but I think this crew can handle all of their duties prior to the celebration." She pointed a finger at Tom. "But I must insist, Tom. Synthehol only. If we have repairs to make the next day, I don't need crewmen suffering from hangovers."

"Aye, Captain," he grinned.

_We want Janeway dead._ She avoided looking at Meghan again. Might as well go out with a party. She bobbed her head. "Dismissed."


	9. Chapter 9

_If you want to know what I had in mind for this holodeck scene, Google Pat O'Brien's New Orleans. :)_

_

* * *

_

On the eve before their scheduled rendezvous with the entity, Kathryn slid onto the cushy, deep green bar stool and accepted a tall red drink garnished with a slice of orange from Sandrine. "Vacationing away from France and they still have you behind the bar?"

The pretty hologram nodded. "Oui, but it is New Orleans after all, Capitaine. It is not so different." She gestured to all of the people filling the room. "Your crew looks happy to be together again."

"Yes," Kathryn nodded, looking fondly out at the tables filled with people, "I think they are."

The crowd in the bar cheered as the piano player finished a jazzy selection before sliding smoothly into his next tune. Sandrine put her arms on the bar and leaned towards Kathryn. "What about you, madame? Are you not happy to be with them?"

"Of course I'm happy to see them," she responded automatically.

Sandrine smiled knowingly. "See them? Yes. But you are not _with_ them." She wiped the surface of the bar with a wet rag. "You are sitting here, alone…with me. Shouldn't you be with that devilishly good looking first officer of yours?"

Kathryn flinched at the hologram's perceptiveness and wondered when and why Tom had reprogrammed Sandrine to recognize them as _Voyagers_ and not just as patrons of her bar. Trying to brush off the question, Kathryn shrugged. "What can I say? Once again, reality and my expectations didn't quite match up." The entity's voice from the brig log echoed in her mind. _ We want Janeway dead._ Her hand tightened around the cool, sweating glass on the bar, and she wrapped her lips around the double straws, taking a long drink before standing. "If you'll excuse me."

Escaping the darkened bar, Kathryn made her way up the winding staircase and stood on the balcony overlooking the outside courtyard area of the bar. Holding her drink in one hand and gripping the top of the wrought iron trellis in the other, she had to admit Tom had once again outdone himself. Her crew were all enjoying themselves, spread out amongst the patio, eating finger foods and drinking cold drinks of varying colors while taking trips between the cooler inside bar to listen to the piano or staying out in the warm, humid night air where a jazz quartet played lively tunes.

She watched as the Doctor guided Seven effortlessly between the tables before disappearing inside. Tom and Harry were sitting near one of the many fountains, laughing and chatting with the Delaney sisters. Vorik and Tuvok both had turquoise-colored drinks sitting on the glass table top in front of them in one of the most out of the way corners as they observed the crowd. Even Meghan appeared to be having a good time, clutching a drink in one hand and standing with Ayala and Andrews, their group strategically placed in front of one of the many stationary fans that helped keep the humid Gulf air from being too stifling.

Kathryn felt someone join her at the railing and looked over, surprised and a little disappointed to see B'Elanna standing next to her. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to B'Elanna; it was just that she had hoped it might have been someone else seeking her out. Eyeing B'Elanna's drink, she frowned. It was more of a bowl than a glass, and it was filled with a distinctly purple liquid. "What _are_ you drinking, B'Elanna?"

The engineer smiled, taking a sip. "You sure you want to know?"

Kathryn raised an eyebrow, even more curious now.

B'Elanna laughed. "It's called a 'Purple People Eater'." She was glad to see her captain chuckle. "What about you? Enjoying the Hurricane?"

"Well, it's no merlot," she turned the glass in her hand, the ice swirling the contents around, "but I have to say, it's not bad." They both sipped their drinks and watched the crowd below them for a moment. "My hat's off to Tom. He really chose an excellent program. This is the perfect ambiance."

"Just wait until you see the flaming fountain," B'Elanna remarked cryptically before hitting her comm. badge. "B'Elanna to Tom. I found the captain. Are we ready?"

*Yeah, bring her down.*

"B'Elanna…what?" Kathryn asked warily, seeing Tom pull his feet from the chair he had them propped up on and stand up.

B'Elanna hooked her arm through Kathryn's. "Relax, you've faced situations far more dangerous than this."

As her chief engineer dragged her down the stairs and towards the patio, it seemed as though she had missed some sort of silent signal. The pianos were no longer playing, and all of her people were spilling out of that part of the bar, helping to move her along towards the center of the outdoor courtyard. Even as she was good-naturedly jostled forward, her eye caught on the lone figure still lounging against the outside bar that had been underneath the patio she had been standing on. Chakotay didn't move forward with her and the crowd, but he didn't look away from her, either.

It felt like the realest contact the two of them had had since he'd walked out of her quarters that first night. With the exception of staff briefings, they had both done an incredible job of avoiding each other, but if she was asked, she would not be able to deny that she had been scanning the crowd for him tonight. It was, after all, probably her last night.

The distinct chinking noise of silverware hitting glass brought her concentration back to her present circumstances, where she found herself standing in front of the main fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Tom was standing on the ledge of the fountain, his drink glass held high as he tapped a knife against it.

"Simmer down," he laughed as the crowd of _Voyagers_ slowly quieted. "Well, I don't think any of us imagined we'd see this day again. At least not all together as we are now, but here we are. A crew with a mission once again. Feels kind of good, doesn't it?"

There were several good natured cheers as applause broke out amongst the crew. Ever the perfect emcee, Tom waited for it to die down before continuing. "We decided to hold this celebration tonight because after tomorrow, we'll probably have Starfleet flunkies crawling all over the ship wanting to hold debriefings."

Grumbling and groans sounded this time, and someone from the back yelled out, "I didn't sign up for _that_."

"It comes with the territory, Mike," Tom chuckled. "But we've come to the point in the evening when it's time to light the torch." He gestured to the center of the fountain behind him. "This usually doesn't require so much ceremony, but it does require someone chosen from amongst the crowd. And tonight the crew of _Voyager_ chooses their captain, Kathryn Janeway."

Cheers and applause broke out around them, and B'Elanna swiped the drink from Kathryn's hand as Tom offered her his hand so she could join him up on the ledge of the fountain. She accepted, stepping up to find to find the ledge had a decent-sized base, although she could now feel the mist from the fountain hitting her.

"Now – because I know you all have one – I want everyone raise their glass," Tom ordered, raising his own glass high in the air. "She stood tall in front of all of our enemies, she made us a family, and she brought us home. It was her fire that led us, protected us, and made us never give up. Here's to Captain Kathryn Janeway."

A second cheer, louder than the first, rose up from the crowd, and Kathryn watched her crew all salute her with their wildly colored drinks and smiling faces, and she felt a tightness spread through her chest as she tried to maintain a modicum of control over her emotions. Tom leaned over to her and whispered conspiratorially, "And you're the _only_ Starfleet captain I'll ever follow."

His comment, offered so wryly, broke her emotional dam and she burst out laughing even as she smacked him on the shoulder. He winked at her and she knew he had done it on purpose to give her a release. Wiping at her watery eyes, she leaned in towards him. "Thank you, but what exactly am I supposed to do now?"

He nodded with his chin towards where the crowd was parting, and she followed his eyes to see a long, cylindrical torch being brought to her by none other than her first officer. Immediately, the tightness in her chest returned as she locked eyes with Chakotay and he offered her the handle of the torch. She accepted the flame with almost trembling hands and forced herself to look away from him. Turning towards the spray of water, she realized she'd have to lean quite a bit forward in order to reach the middle.

"Don't let me fall in," she muttered to the side, half expecting a nudge from Tom.

"I've got you," Chakotay said, his strong hands settling on her hips. She was so startled to realize it was his hands holding her, she almost forgot what it was she was supposed to be doing. His warm chuckle reached her ears. "Just light the torch, Kathryn."

She extended her arms and, after a second, the entire bowl at the center of the fountain erupted in flame, making a stark contrast to the water spraying up around it. She straightened, handing the smaller torch off to Tom as the crowd cheered again. The trombonist started up a lively jazz tune, the crew began to disperse, and stepping down from the ledge, Kathryn found herself staring into her first officer's eyes.

"Care to join me for a drink?"

She nodded.

* * *

"When you asked if I wanted to join you for a drink," Kathryn entered the code for her quarters, "I didn't realize you meant we were leaving the holodeck."

"The crew watches us as closely as they ever did," he replied, following her inside, "and for what we need to discuss, I didn't think we needed an audience."

She felt her shoulders slump, knowing there would be no getting around the topic this time. It was kind of a shame; she actually had been having a relaxing evening, despite a moment or two of melancholy. "What can I get you from the replicator?"

"I'll have whatever you're having."

She jumped slightly to hear him only a few steps behind her; he hadn't moved to the couch as she had thought. "I was going to have coffee," she stammered slightly, shaking her head at herself.

"Sounds good, but cream and sugar, please," he said, settling himself on the corner of her desk. He knew he'd caught her off guard, and it had been intentional. Sometimes, keeping her off-kilter was the only way to get anywhere with her.

She turned and handed him the cup, covering her surprise at his location well. "_Two_ sugars, if I remember correctly."

He accepted the hot mug with thanks and then began without preamble. "Our dinner the other night ended poorly. I hadn't really intended on waking up alone the next morning."

Having just taken her first sip, Kathryn coughed slightly at his statement, and her eyes began to water as the hot drink hit the back of her throat. She had to relinquish her mug to the desktop as she grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her eyes and nose. No preliminaries. Just straight for the jugular. It wasn't exactly the topic she had thought he was going to want to discuss, but she could give as good as she got. "Well, Commander, you were the one that walked out the door."

Then again, sometimes keeping Kathryn on her heels just pissed her off. "Yes, I was," he agreed easily, his mug joining hers on the desktop. "It wasn't exactly a pleasant surprise I got from you that night."

She opened her mouth to retort but closed it without saying anything. He cocked his head at her, and she exhaled on a sigh. "I don't want to fight with you, Chakotay. This mission…it is what it is."

She paced away from him, toward her viewport, and he followed her, not invading her space but staying closer than was normal for their heated conversations. "And what is this mission, Kathryn?"

"You know what it is." Her eyes met his. Not directly but in their combined reflection in the viewport.

He took a step closer, his reflection behind hers becoming clearer. "I know what the orders say it is. I know what Starfleet and our crew think it is, but I want to know what you think. Why are you out here? What's _your_ mission?"

The stars outside the ship were passing by their reflections, and if she wanted, she could focus enough to only see what the space outside held instead of their combined reflection. But that wasn't what she wanted. What she wanted was standing behind her. All she had to do was turn and, like the future she wished she had, he would be in front of her.

Chakotay took another step closer and gently laid his hands on her shoulders. "Do you want to know why _I_ accepted this mission?"

Warmth from his hands and chest soaked into her shoulders and back, reminding her of how cold she'd felt ever since that day in the courtroom when she'd had to walk away from him. She shivered. "Why?" she whispered.

He never took his eyes off of hers in the reflection as he leaned down so his mouth was close to her ear. "You."

_Bring us dead Janeway._

She broke. She couldn't do it. She _wanted_ her friends. Her ship. Her family. _Him_. She wanted their life together. The house he was building. The sunsets. She wanted her future. Her _life_.

Chakotay closed his eyes as he gently turned her into his chest and felt her arms wrap around his waist, her fists tightening in the cloth of his shirt. Even in their reflection, he'd been able to see the dam break. The change in her eyes from determined to desolate, and he knew his theory had been correct. She'd been on a suicide mission, and this time it hadn't been one of her own choosing.

He'd reviewed all the logs she'd sent him and all the ship reports, and while he hadn't been completely convinced that her sacrifice was the only possible course of action, he knew that was exactly how she had taken it. He held her small frame tight against him and felt another shudder run through her as a year's worth of emotions spilled out of her.

Several minutes passed before he felt her hold on him loosen and he leaned back to look down at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. Using two fingers, he gently raised her chin. "Why don't we try that coffee now?"

She nodded jerkily, releasing him completely and heading towards the replicator. Chakotay put his hands on her shoulders again and turned her towards the couch instead. "I'll get them. You go sit down."

Even though she nodded again, Chakotay was thrilled he had seen the slight spark of annoyance in her eyes when he'd told her to sit down. Taking his time and giving her a moment to herself, he gathered up the two mugs from the desk and recycled them before ordering two new fresh drinks. When he turned back towards the couch, Kathryn still held a wadded-up tissue in her hand, but she looked incredibly more together and even met his eye when he handed her the coffee.

"Thank you," she managed, her voice still sounding a bit watery. "I hadn't intended to fall apart on you like that."

He shrugged and then they both grimaced when they drank from the beverages in front of them. Chakotay had given her his and vice versa. They quickly exchanged mugs, each taking another sip.

Her eyes danced over the lip of her mug as she lowered it. "You did that on purpose."

"You really think I'd do that to myself?" he asked indignantly. "I don't see how you drink that stuff."

"Hmmph, you might as well not even call yours coffee it's so sweet."

"I understand now how you ate all of that leola root over the years; you don't have functioning taste buds," he shot back, grinning.

"It's an _acquired_ taste," she drawled before taking another sip and sinking back against the cushions.

"Leola root or your coffee?" he asked.

She gave him a mini death glare. "Both."

He settled back, sipping his coffee and waiting for her, knowing that now she'd open the discussion when she was ready.

"I know that I hurt you," she started, "that day in the court room, but I can't go back and make that right. I probably wouldn't if I could. Not with that set of circumstances. My freedom for all of yours." She shook her head slightly. "It was no contest."

He nodded slowly. "I know."

She studied him. "Do you?"

He chuckled but it was without mirth. "Yes, Kathryn, I do."

"I do wish that I had talked to you about it though," she admitted. "And for that, I am sorry."

He leaned forward in his chair and extended his hand to her, grateful when she took it. "I would've tried to talk you out of it, but I understand why you did it. I just wish we had never been put in that circumstance to begin with."

"We shouldn't have been," she agreed, "but now here we are in yet another circumstance where I hope you'll understand why I'm doing what I'm doing."

He swallowed thickly. "I understand why you think you have to, but I hope you'll understand when I try to talk you out of it."

"Don't try too hard, okay?" She squeezed his hand tight before releasing it. "I truly believe this mission needs doing," she raised her coffee in mock salute, "and apparently, I'm the woman to do it."

"You mean, _we_ are the_ crew_ to do it," he corrected.

She eyed him shrewdly, her thumb tracing along her fingernails on her free hand. "You read the reports, Chakotay. You haven't spoken to me for days _because_ you read the reports."

"I needed time," he admitted.

"Time is something I don't have a whole lot of if those reports are accurate."

"We didn't understand what this entity wanted the first time we encountered it," he argued. "Who's to say we're interpreting its actions correctly this time?"

Kathryn stood up, collecting both their mugs and heading for the replicator. After recycling them, she leaned against her desk, crossing her arms over her chest. "When I briefed the senior staff about the possible damage this entity would cause to the ship, I said that I had been waiting on a report before I made my final decision to engage this entity with the crew."

He nodded. "Yes, you said you'd received the report from the _Rathbone_ and that the entity had apparently understood the message and that we would be meeting with it."

"You read the reports I gave you the night before, Chakotay. You knew I already had the report from the _Rathbone_ prior to that morning." She waited for him to acknowledge that before continuing. "That morning, I received a communiqué from Admiral Nechayev. In it, she included the report that made my decision final."

"The _Shakespeare's_ brig log of their captain possessed by the entity," he supplied.

Kathryn's head snapped up. "How do you know about that?"

"I know you, Kathryn. I know when you're holding something back." He shrugged. "After the briefing, I went looking for the report."

"It was encrypted," she said tightly.

"I'm Maquis, remember?"

She glanced at the computer on her desk. "And it was only in here on my _personal_ terminal."

He was amused at the growl he heard in her voice. "I told you the night before you should change the access code to your doors."

She was fairly seething at his audacity, but she was trying desperately to stay on subject. "So how is it that even after you've seen that video log, you can still believe this is going to end with something besides my death?"

Instead of answering, Chakotay reached into his pocket and fished out a hypospray, laying it on the table in front of him.

A cold feeling settled in the pit of Kathryn's stomach at the sight of it. "What is that?"

"A sedative," he answered simply.

She could feel her spine straighten and the anger, she'd just barely managed to quell welled up inside her again. "Afraid you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, Commander?"

Her voice was sharp. Biting. He couldn't blame her, really. "I think you know…I wasn't going to use it on myself."

Her breathing was ragged, and she couldn't seem to get it under control. "What exactly was your plan?"

"Administer it to you while you slept and then take a shuttle out and meet this thing myself."

She was shaking her head, her hand fisted in front of her mouth, before he'd even finished his sentence.

"I wasn't going to let you sacrifice yourself needlessly, Kathryn."

"It's not…_needless_," she stated emphatically. "Other people will be hurt. Other ships _attacked _if I don't–"

He held up his hand. "I know," he admitted, repeating it again even more quietly. "I know."

She tilted her chin up, grinding her teeth together to try and stop the trembling she felt in her chest. "Get rid of it, then."

Knowing she was watching him closely, he stood slowly from the chair, picking up the hypospray with his left hand. The hand that would be farthest away from her as he walked past her to the replicator. She kept her back to him, but her posture was as tense as he'd ever seen it. He placed the hypospray on the tray, loud enough for her to hear it. "Recycle."

He saw her shoulders relax the slightest of degrees, but her voice was still low…cautious when she spoke.

"On that bridge tomorrow. I need to know you're with me." She turned to face him. "I _can_ do this without you…but I don't _want_ to. I want you by my side. I want you with me."

He rounded the desk so that he was standing in front of her. He reached out with his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'll be with you. If you'll have me, I'll never leave your side again."

The tightness in her chest finally left her, and the breath she had been trying so hard to regulate came easy. She looked up at him, and the trembling in her chest ceased. "That's exactly what I want."

* * *

Kathryn couldn't remember the last time she'd ever felt this peaceful. Certainly not any time in the last eight years, and probably not for a long time before that. She was tired and knew tomorrow was going to be a long day, but she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes. If she slept now, she'd miss some of these precious few minutes.

"You need to rest, Kathryn," Chakotay mumbled sleepily, never even opening his eyes.

"Don't want to." She'd been resisting reaching out and touching him because she hadn't wanted to wake him, but now that she knew he was awake, she drifted her fingers across his temple, trailing them into his short, bristly hair. The starlight was the only illumination on his features, and she couldn't stop staring. All these years that she'd surreptitiously studied him, and it was only now over the past few hours she had allowed herself to touch. To trace the small scar under his chin. To run her finger along the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. To finally be able to trace the lines of his tattoo the way she'd imagined so many times.

His hand rested heavily on her bare hip, and his thumb was rubbing back and forth absently. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." She placed her hand on his bare chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat as his natural warmth soaked into her fingers. "Everything."

He opened his eyes. Even in the shallow light of the stars, he knew he could drown in the depths of her cool blue gaze. Her nails dug lightly into his chest as he took a deep breath. "Tell me one thing you're thinking about."

"I wish we'd done this sooner," she answered easily.

Moving his hand up to her face and cupping her chin, he told her what he knew to be true. "We did it when it was right for us."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What about New Earth?"

"What about it?"

"Don't you think that if we had stayed there even a few days more _something_ would have happened?"

He couldn't help but smile. "Probably, but we didn't…so here we are."

This was why she hadn't wanted to sleep. Why she hadn't wanted to miss out on a single moment of finally being happy. Because they had waited so long. Too long. A single night simply wasn't enough…but it had to be.

"Chakotay," she whispered.

"Hmmm?" He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her palm, his movements still lazy and half asleep.

"Do you know how long I've loved you?"

He brought her hand back down to his chest and held it there, his solemn brown eyes finding hers and holding them just as he held her hand. "Probably about a day less than I've loved you."

"A day _less_?" she asked, smiling.

He nodded. "You're more stubborn than I am."

She couldn't disagree. "I should've said something before now–" she had to pause as she felt a tremendous unexpected pressure build behind her eyes. It was a brief and somewhat familiar sensation, but she shook it off to find Chakotay staring at her with less sleep in his expression and more concern.

"Is everything all right?"

The chime for the door to her quarters rang.

Chakotay frowned. "Are you expecting someone?"

"Not hardly."

The chime rang a second and third time, and Kathryn felt the pressure on her mind again and this time recognized it for what it was.

Meghan.

She swore. _*Not now, Meghan.*_

The chime became continuous as the person outside her cabin doors leaned on the button. Chakotay's eyebrows shot up, and he began to roll over to answer the door, but Kathryn's hand stopped him.

_*Go away. I will talk with you tomorrow.*_ She thought as loudly and as clearly as she could.

The chime stopped only to be replaced by the muffled sounds of a person outside beating on the door.

"Oh, that's it." Kathryn swung her legs out of bed and reached for the robe that hung on the lounge chair. She held out a hand to Chakotay. "Just stay there, I will be right back. Please."

"Kathryn, who's out there?" he asked, confused and growing a bit more concerned.

"It's nothing, I promise." She leaned over and kissed him. "Two minutes."

Tying the robe closed as she walked, Kathryn crossed her quarters, hurling mental insults the entire way until she was able to unlock the door, allowing it to slide open, but blocking entrance to the Betazoid in the corridor. "Have you lost your mind, _Counselor_?"

The quietly issued growl did absolutely nothing to Meghan. She straightened, making the most of the few centimeters she had in height over Janeway. "I'm close, _Captain_. Real _damn_ close. And do you know why? Because of _you_."

The last statement had been more of a hiss, and Kathryn leaned back, trying to avoid the smell of synthehol on her counselor's breath. Before she could respond with a properly scathing retort, Kathryn heard the turbolift open at the end of the corridor, and two rather loud and exuberant voices were moving in their direction. Not wanting to do it, but not wanting to continue this conversation in the hallway even more, Kathryn pulled Meghan into her quarters.

"Explain yourself, Counselor," she bit out.

Meghan chuckled darkly. "Do you know…that I used to think _I_ had it bad? Denial. Depression. Repression. Survivor's guilt," she rattled off, turning her back to Janeway, and walking further into her quarters. "You name it and I had it…but then I met _you_."

She turned back to face Janeway on the last syllable, and the captain shook her head, about to speak, but the counselor spoke over her, waving a hand in the direction of the corridor. "And _then…_I met your _crew_! I mean, by the four deities, every person on this ship should be in counseling!"

Kathryn folded her arms across her chest, trying to keep her voice low. "Now is really not the time for this conversation."

Meghan's eyes narrowed. "If not now…then when, _Captain_?" She brought her fingers to her temples and gestured wildly. "I cannot believe you haven't told them!"

Kathryn's eyes flicked to the bedroom, and she knew that if Meghan was slightly more coherent she would have noticed by now that the two of them were not alone. _ *Meghan…just stop. Now.*_

The counselor shook her head, hearing Janeway's mental plea but ignoring it. "For all you know, you could _die_ tomorrow, and you haven't even told anyone. These people are already being eaten up with guilt that you spent almost the entire last year in prison. How do you think they're going to feel when you die tomorrow on that bridge, and they find out they ferried you to your death sentence?"

Glancing again towards her bedroom, Kathryn was silently grateful she and Chakotay had already argued their way through everything because there was no way he wasn't hearing Meghan. "I think you need to leave…_now_."

Meghan slumped onto the couch rather defiantly but then, like a switch had been thrown, all the energy seemed to drain from her in an instant. Her shoulders slumped, and her head drooped downwards until she appeared to be speaking to the coffee table. "You read the report about…about what happened to me on…Sentok Nor?"

Kathryn's eyes narrowed and she nodded warily, surprised the counselor was bringing that up. "Yes."

"Did it mention anything…about a man named…Kemar?" she asked, still staring at the floor.

Hoping Chakotay would stay put for a few minutes longer, Kathryn tightened the belt on her robe and took a seat across from the young counselor. Her fury was quickly ebbing away as she felt she might finally be getting some answers. "No, it didn't."

Emotion swept across Meghan's face, and she nodded jerkily. "I thought as much. Why would it?"

When she didn't elaborate, Kathryn reached out and put her hand on Meghan's knee. "Who was Kemar, Meghan?"

Meghan looked up, and her eyes were as bright as Kathryn had ever seen them. "The love of my life," she said simply before taking a deep breath and explaining further. "He died on the space station…trying to rescue me. Moset…killed him in front of me. I couldn't save…" She swallowed tightly. "We'd been betrothed since we were five years old. We just hadn't gotten married yet because he'd been waiting on me…waiting for me to say yes."

Kathryn frowned slightly. "But if you were betrothed–"

Meghan pushed to her feet in a blur, stalking angrily past Kathryn and towards the viewport. She stared out at the stars for several minutes before continuing. "Kemar…_asked_ me to marry him. He said 'to hell with our parents and their traditions' and that we'd only get married if and when _we_ wanted to. So, I asked him if we could wait a little while longer." She gave Kathryn a morbid smile. "Who knew that within a month our planet would be the Alpha Quadrant home base for the Dominion?"

Kathryn's heart ached for her young friend, and so many things about her behavior over the past week suddenly made a lot more sense.

Meghan let out a watery chuckle, having picked up on Kathryn's thoughts. "Now maybe you understand why I came here tonight." She turned away from the viewport, facing Janeway head-on. "Don't be a fool like I was. Don't not say the words because you're scared, Kathryn. You above all people should know that you may never get another chance."

With a small shake of her head, Kathryn said, "I've already told him, Meghan. He knows how I feel–"

Meghan frowned, finally taking in Kathryn's hastily tied robe and mussed hair. Kathryn saw Meghan's shoulders stiffen and knew the Betazoid was finally scanning the room for the presence of others. She gave a little start, sobering instantly when she picked up Chakotay's presence in the bedroom. Blood rushed into her cheeks, "I am so sorry…I didn't mean–"

Kathryn sighed. "It's all right." She raised her voice towards the bedroom. "Chakotay?"

He emerged from the bedroom, wearing only his trousers. "Good evening, Meghan."

"C-commander," she stuttered, the blush deepening and racing for her hairline. "Well…I don't think I could've screwed this up any more than I already have."

"Sure, you could have," Janeway quipped dryly, "you could've stopped by about an hour earlier."

As the implication of that statement set in, Meghan actually paled noticeably. She gestured towards the doors. "I'll just…be going."

Kathryn nodded and got to her feet.

"Counselor," Chakotay's soft voice stopped her before she reached the doors. "Thank you for looking out for Kathryn." He chuckled at Meghan's dubious look. "She may not appreciate it, but I do."

Meghan looked between the two of them before giving a curt nod. "Good night, Captain. Commander. Please forgive my intrusion."

Chakotay watched the doors close behind her before turning back to Kathryn. He chuckled darkly. "I always thought Betazoids were a calm species."

"They usually are," Kathryn commented then huffed resignedly. "She's been through a lot."

"I know." He smiled at Kathryn's questioning look. "I read her record, too. Leave it to you, Kathryn, to find a counselor that needs you as much as you need her."

Kathryn frowned. "Why did you access her record?"

"Commander's prerogative." He winked. "In the few short conversations I've had with her and seeing her interact with you, I thought there had to be something going on with her. She's a _Voyager _now, whether she wants to be or not, and I'm the de facto counselor for _Voyager_s."

Kathryn continued to frown. "Parts of her record were sealed."

Chakotay gave her an exasperated look. "Maquis. Remember?"

"I thought you were reformed," she responded dryly.

"Unlike you, I was never convicted." He settled onto the couch, delighted at Kathryn's expression of shock. "I didn't have to reform."

Despite her initial surprise, she found herself trying hard not to laugh. "I never thought that, between the two of us, _I'd_ be considered the disreputable one."

"We all have our crosses to bear." He stretched his legs out and regarded her more seriously. "She's got a point about the others, though. They deserve to know what we're flying into tomorrow."

Kathryn shook her head, moving towards the couch. "No. As much as I _want_ to tell them…no. It's better that they not know. If they know, they'll feel compelled to try and stop me. I can't allow that."

"They're going to be angry," he pointed out, moving his arm up and over her shoulders as she settled against him.

"Yes, they will be, but I'd rather they be angry at me for not telling them than angry at themselves for failing to save me." She motioned to a stack of PADDs on her desk. "I've left them all letters. I hope you'll–"

He shook his head, cutting her off before she could finish. "I'll take care of them, Kathryn, but…I don't want to talk about them right now."

She nodded, understanding, and laid her cheek against his chest, her arm draped over him. "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

He kissed the top of her head, mumbling into her hair, "I don't know. Just…not that."

Kathryn felt a tear escape, and she closed her eyes even as she felt him squeeze her tighter against him. "Tell me about the colony, Chakotay. Tell me about that house you're building and our…future."

His chest rose with a shuddering breath, and then the quiet stillness of her quarters was filled with his rich voice telling stories of her crew and how they'd adapted to the planet. About Tom's adventures salvaging a land cruiser and B'Elanna's misadventures with Miral. He told her about how he'd picked the perfect site for their home, and how he'd planned for it to be ready and waiting when she got there. He talked until the computer's preset morning alarm sounded.

Kathryn sat up, having only closed her eyes long enough to imagine the things he'd described. She silenced the alarm and held a hand out to him as she got to her feet. "We've got a busy day ahead of us, Commander, but I do believe a shower is in order first."

He managed a smile for her. "I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine."

Her lopsided smile appeared as she pulled him behind her and towards the bathroom. "That _is_ the idea, Commander."


	10. Chapter 10

_My apologies for falling behind on replying to your generous feedback. RL got a bit busy. And ffnet kept trying to 'fix' my formatting that I didn't want it to fix. But anyway...I will reply and thank you!  
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"Approaching rendezvous coordinates, Captain," Tom announced, his fingers dancing across the console.

"Slow to impulse, Tom." Kathryn felt the ship drop out of warp. "All stop." She turned slightly to look up at the Ops station. "Anything, Harry?"

"Putting it on the viewscreen now, Captain," he answered.

There was a collective intake of breath on the bridge as the misshapen green entity appeared on the screen in front of them.

Kathryn got to her feet, unable to sit still. "Go to yellow alert, Tuvok, but keep the shields powered down."

"Aye, Captain."

She stood in the middle of the bridge, hearing Chakotay get to his feet as well. "Harry, open all hailing frequencies."

Chakotay closed the distance between them, standing just behind her on her left side. She took great comfort from his presence and reached her hand back, wanting to brush her hand against his. His strong fingers wrapped around hers and gave her a brief reassuring squeeze before letting go. The distortion loomed closer, taking up the entire viewscreen.

Kathryn squared her shoulders. "To the unknown entity in close proximity to this ship, this is Captain Kathryn Janeway."

The ship bucked lightly beneath her boots, and she began to turn to ask Harry if he had a response. She saw Chakotay's face; she saw the alarm in his eyes as what felt like a heavy, wet blanket descended over her mind, swallowing all of her senses. As if he was in slow motion, she saw Chakotay's mouth open and his arms move to support her. She hadn't even realized she was falling. She hadn't realized she couldn't hear the shouts of alarm from her officers. She couldn't feel his touch. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't see. One instant she'd been on the bridge in command…waiting…and then the next instant there was nothing.

Being dead was not at all what she had imagined, though, as she opened her eyes a moment later to brightness. She was on her feet, and she spun slowly, taking in the expansive, wide open area of nothing but white as far as she could see in all directions. It reminded her strongly of a report she'd read by Captain Picard and his experience with Q acting as a god. Looking around, she wondered if all of this could really be that easy to explain. "Q?"

_*WelcomeKathrynJaneway. NoQ. WelcomeVoyagerCaptain. Foundher. Notdead. WelcomeCaptainJaneway. NotQ. GreetingsCaptainKathryn. She'shere. Wefoundher. WhoisQ? Isshedead? Nolongerconfined. Itworked. She'shere. Youarewelcomehere. Happytoseeyou. * _

A thousand voices sounded all at once. Kathryn gasped at the overwhelming cacophonous contact and instinctively covered her ears with her hands. She couldn't tell if the voices were in her head or emanating from all around her in the room, but they were continuous. Overlapping. Overwhelming. Washing over her in a never-ending tidal wave of sensation.

_*Wearesogladtoseeyou. Youmadeit. Notdead. Howdidyoumakeithome? VoyagerCaptain. DidyouseeIndiana? Welcome. Andyourcrew. Areyouwell? IsVoyagerokay? Receivedyourmessage. Askedforyou. Weheardfromothersyouweredead. Notdead. Sudermissing. Happytofindyou. CaptainJaneway. Wecantalknow. Howdidyoumanageit? YoufoughtBorg. YouhaveaBorg. Happytoseeyou. Youunderstandus? Areyouhappy? Somecrewmissing.*_

The pressure thrumming inside her skull was massive. She felt like her head was going to be crushed as all the voices crowded in on her. All asking questions. All wanting answers. Her heart was pounding, and it was getting hard to breathe. "Please…stop."

_*YouthoughtQ? Welcomehere. WhoisSeven? Didyouhearuscalling? DeadJaneway. WhoisMiral? Youarenotwelltreated. WhereisJurot? Thisisbetterthanlasttime. DidWildmanhavebaby? Youunderstandus. Othercrewsdonotspeaktous. YoumeantheContinuum? Youmadeithome. Welcomehere. Howdidyoudoit? We'vebeenworriedforyou. Gladyouarenotdead. WedonotlikeDevore. Gladthisisworking.*_

Kathryn staggered and dropped to her knees, her head still held in her hands as the voices continued on relentlessly. She curled in on herself instinctively trying to protect what she could. She couldn't see the white room anymore. She couldn't see anything. The pressure inside her skull was too much. "Stop it!"

_*WehavemetHirogentoo. Welcomehome. Starfleetnothappy. Wereyoudying? Youwereconfined. DeadJaneway. WhoisMeghan? Weweresad. Theygotmarried. Wehavelearnedmuch. Confinementkills. Ithasbeenmanyyears. Newstars. Nowwearefarfromhome. Othershipsdidnotunderstandus. Thewarriorisangry. *_

"STOP IT!"

Kathryn screamed the words, hearing them echo around the now silent room. She gasped in shuddering breaths, her eyes watering as her heart pounded. The pressure in her head began to subside as soon as the room fell silent. Rolling onto her back, she dropped her hands from her head. Gradually, her heart rate began to slow and her heaving breaths began to calm. She opened her eyes, bringing a hand to her mouth as she finally caught her breath. "Thank you."

_*IsJanewayokay?Wethoughtyouunderstood. Noharmintended. Feelbetter? Thoughtwehadlearned. Doyouhearus? Whatdoyouneed? Canwehelp? Noharm. Notdead.*_

The pressure immediately began to build again behind her eyes. Kathryn's hand shot out to silence them and she was extremely grateful when the voices once again fell silent. Moving slowly and a bit unsteadily, she got to her feet. "I need for you…to communicate with me…very slowly," a buzz started building, and she hurried to finish her thought, "and only one at a time. Please."

_*We apologize. We meant no harm. Are you okay? Can we help? Thought we'd gotten better. Please be well Captain of Voyager. Excited to see you. Happy you are here. Our apologies. Is this better?*_

Kathryn pinched the bridge of her nose. If she survived this, she was going to have one hell of a migraine. "It's better, but _please_…one at a time."

There was silence, and she could feel what she perceived to be confusion as they, whoever they were, tried to adjust themselves to what she was requesting. "Let's try this," she suggested, clasping her hands together. "I think we both have a lot of questions. I'll start by trying to answer some of yours and then…we'll go from there. Okay?"

She got the impression of heads nodding in unison but no one wanting to say anything. She absently rubbed the back of her neck with one hand while trying to think where to start. "Coffee would be a lifesaver right about now."

A low coffee table with a white tea set appeared in front of her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you aren't Q?"

There was a grumbling, and she quickly raised a hand. "Sorry, my apologies, I didn't mean to offend. I wouldn't want to be compared to them, either."

The answering mood of amusement reassured her, and she reached for the coffee, noticing for the first time that the tea set was actually _her_ tea set. The white one that she had eventually stored away after one of the delicate cups had been broken during an attack. She also noticed that the table the tea set was sitting on was from her ready room. Apparently, these beings had gleaned _a lot_ during their original pass through her ship.

As she poured the coffee, she asked casually for a place to sit and again she was immediately obliged with her ready room couch appearing behind her. She nodded, somehow not surprised this time, and took a sip of the coffee as she sat down. "Thank you."

She could feel their curiosity building, and she of all people knew that the power of unanswered questions would eventually outweigh their show of patience. But there was one thing she needed to get settled before she would appease them. "I don't believe that I'm dead, but I have to ask…do you plan to kill me?"

There was a ripple of shock and outrage, and she regretted her question as multiple voices began to answer her. Talking over one another. Assuring her. Their volume increasing so rapidly, Kathryn was glad she was sitting down. The delicate tea cup rattled against its saucer as she tried desperately to set it down before she spilled the coffee all over herself. "Please stop…just one at a time."

Ever so slowly, silence descended once again, and she sucked in a deep, steadying breath, swiping a hand underneath her watering eyes. "Let's try to avoid doing that again, and I'll take it on good faith that you mean me no harm."

Kathryn felt like she received a general grumbling in response to that, but it was really the best she could offer. Assuming she wasn't dead, she still wasn't entirely sure where she was or how she'd gotten here. However, if only for the sake of her aching head, she needed to smooth some of their ruffled consciousness. "You'll never believe the circumstances of how we managed to get home finally. It involved a Borg transwarp hub, a ride in a Borg sphere, and a time-traveling version of myself."

Immediately, she felt a change in the room and knew that she had their collective and undivided attention. She was relieved because if _that_ hadn't gotten their attention, she didn't know what she would have followed it up with. She chuckled, "Shall I start there?"

The group's consensus was divided until Kathryn heard a stardate. A stardate that coincided with the last time they had encountered each other. Almost seven years ago. She paled slightly. "You want me to start _then_?"

A chorus of positive responses filled the room, and Kathryn grimaced. "I'm going to need a bigger pot of coffee."

* * *

Chakotay sat on the bridge, his glare focused on the viewscreen. It had been six hours since Kathryn had collapsed on the bridge. Six _long_ hours since that moment when he'd thought it would be easier if he simply died as well. He'd known she expected to die. He'd prepared himself as best he could for that possible outcome, but truthfully, nothing could have prepared him for what had happened.

Everything had been fine. No obvious signs of malice from the entity in front of them. Just a small bump to the ship and she'd turned, probably to address Harry, and he'd seen it. The focus slid from her eyes, that brightness and radiating power he'd always associated with her had seemed to dim. He'd said her name. Not her rank. And she'd looked at him as she'd fallen against his chest. Tom had shouted and leapt from the helm towards them. Harry had immediately called for the Doctor, and the bridge lights shifted to red as Tuvok had raised the shields.

But all Chakotay had seen was Kathryn's eyes slowly roll upwards until only a thin sliver of white was visible before her eyelids closed completely. That sight alone had almost stopped his heart, and it probably would have except for the fact that she had still been breathing. At Tom's insistence, he'd slowly lowered her to the deck, taking a stumbling step backwards as the EMH had appeared and was already taking readings. It occurred to him only in that instant that they should probably have at least told the Doctor what they had been expecting.

He'd felt something brush against his hand, and the fleeting touch had made him think horrifically that it was Kathryn's spirit leaving him, but then Meghan had spoken quietly from beside him. "She's still alive, Commander."

He'd immediately looked down at her to see her concentrating on the captain's face. "What?"

Meghan had frowned, her brow creasing. "She's…okay."

By then the entire bridge crew, including the Doctor, had been staring at the counselor, hanging on her words. The hologram had glanced hurriedly between the two women before addressing Chakotay. "It appears she is correct, Commander. The Captain does not appear to be under any distress."

"She _unconscious_, Doc!" Tom had argued.

The EMH had ignored him. "I need to take her to sickbay, where I can monitor her more closely."

Chakotay had managed to nod. "Tom, I need you back at the helm. Counselor…I'd appreciate it if you'd stay with her in sickbay and alert me to any changes."

Meghan had nodded a bit shakily but turned immediately towards the turbolift. Tom had glared at him before taking his seat at the helm, but Chakotay hadn't bothered to address what he felt sure was on the pilot's mind. Taking his seat, he'd addressed the bridge crew. "Stand down red alert to yellow. Lower shields and maintain position."

That had been six hours ago. Since then, everyone on the bridge had taken breaks away from their stations except for him. He hadn't trusted his legs to hold him up. There was only one place he wanted to be, but he knew that she would want him on the bridge. Meghan and the Doctor had both given him updates frequently, reporting that there had been no change in Kathryn's condition, but he was nearing the point where it didn't matter. He needed to see her. To hold her hand. To beg her to come back to him from wherever it was that she had gone so suddenly. He scrubbed his hand over his face for what seemed the thousandth time. As he pulled his hands back down, he was greeted with the sight of Tuvok standing in front of him.

"What is it, Commander?" he asked, with more than a trace of surliness. He did not feel at all like listening to Vulcan logic at the moment.

"The Doctor's hourly update concerning the Captain's condition will be due in approximately five minutes," he started. "I thought perhaps you would like to receive it from him in person. I stand ready to assume command in your brief absence."

For a moment Chakotay was dumbfounded, but then he managed to push himself to his feet. "I never thought I'd want to kiss you, Tuvok."

"I would prefer that you maintain that status, Commander."

Chakotay actually managed a chuckle. "You have the bridge, Commander."

"Aye, sir."

Leaning his head back against the wall of the turbolift as it glided towards deck five, Chakotay thought about that morning and how she'd given him the raised eyebrow as he'd affixed her pips to the collar of her uniform. She'd muttered something about being perfectly able to dress herself, but then she hadn't batted his hands away either. He'd even caught a glimpse of her lopsided smile before she'd disappeared back into the bathroom. If the spirits had any compassion whatsoever, they'd let him see that lopsided smile again.

As the lift slid to a stop, he felt a heavy weight fall upon him, and he made a mental note to have B'Elanna check the inertial dampeners. When he didn't hear the corresponding sound of the doors sliding open, Chakotay opened his eyes.

Kathryn was standing in front of him in a brightly lit empty room. It did wonders for him to see her eyes were as clear and blue as he'd ever seen them even if he was confused as to where they were. "Kathryn?"

She reached up. One hand cupping his cheek. "Sorry about this," she apologized, her voice sounding hoarse, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. "I didn't intend for them to bring you here as well."

He gripped her by the upper arms even as he glanced around. "Are you all right? Who's hurt you?"

Kathryn's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "No one's hurt me; I'm fine."

Pulling her closer, he studied her, clearly able to see the fatigue in her eyes. "You sound like you've been screaming, Kathryn."

She relaxed and placed her hand over his heart. "I'm fine," she assured him. "I've just been doing a lot of talking, and I'm starting to lose my voice."

Chakotay looked around again. "Who have you been talking to? There's no one here."

_*We're here. So happy to see you. Please don't be mad. We hope you'll continue.*_

Kathryn winced slightly and saw Chakotay grimace. "They're actually doing much better. You might even get out of this without a headache."

At his alarmed expression, Kathryn quickly explained to him everything that had happened so far and saw him relax slightly as he took in her couch and table, complete with coffee pot.

"So you've just been…_here_ the whole time?" he asked.

She nodded. "When I felt my voice starting to go out, I mentioned that you had always been a much better story teller than me anyway." She blushed slightly even as the corner of her mouth started to turn upwards. "I had no idea they were going to bring you here."

"Where is 'here'?"

"I haven't actually gotten that far yet," she admitted, taking a seat on the couch.

Running his hands through his hair, he had to laugh. "I'd hoped the spirits would let me see you again, but I guess I should've been more specific."

She gave him a wide smile and gestured to the open room. "Feel like telling a story? I can guarantee a rapt audience."

He felt the mood of the room shift slightly as though an audience was returning from an intermission, ready to see the concluding act of a show. He tugged at his ear. "Where did you leave off?"

* * *

The feeling of helplessness was steadily gnawing at Meghan's nerves as she stood silently observing the two occupied biobeds. She tried to shake off the debilitating feeling, telling herself that her current situation was not comparable at all to her previous experiences, but her inner self pep talks weren't working very well. Once again, people around her seemed to be dying while she could do nothing but mentally hold their hands as they faded away.

She could still feel the mental presence of both Kathryn and Chakotay, but as time had passed, she'd noticed that Kathryn's had begun to fade slightly. It worried her immensely but, try as she might, she was receiving no indication from the woman herself that she was at all aware of Meghan mentally clinging to her.

And listening as the Doctor reported his latest findings to Commander Tuvok wasn't helping.

"It's been nine hours," he explained, his voice carrying a distinct tone of concern, "and while the degradation of the Captain's synaptic activity has been minimal – it has also been consistent."

"And the Commander's?" Tuvok asked.

Meghan was glad she had her back to the two men as she winced slightly. She had her telepathic and empathic senses completely unshielded in an attempt to reach the command team, and in so doing, left herself vulnerable to the deeply-rooted concern Tuvok felt as he studied his captain's supine form on the biobed. Normally, she would feel very little emotion from a Vulcan, but these were hardly normal circumstances. To anyone else, Meghan was sure he appeared concerned but stoic in the face of this latest adversity, but to her…she hoped he left soon. He was a distraction she didn't have time to deal with at the moment.

"Keep me informed, Doctor."

Meghan sucked in a shaky breath and placed her hands on the foot of Janeway's biobed to brace herself as she felt Tuvok leave. She closed her eyes and felt sweat trickle down the small of her back.

"Perhaps you should sit down, Counselor," the Doctor advised, and she felt the sensation of him wrapping his hand around her arm. "You've been on your feet for nine hours. You need to take a break."

Despite his empathic tone and gestures, the holographic doctor was emotionally a blank slate to her. Normally, that lack of sensation would bother her, but at the moment she found his presence the easiest of any of the crew to bear. In answer to his question, she shook her head. "No. I'm fine."

"I beg to differ," he argued, and she could hear the whirring of a tricorder passing over her. "You're running a fever, and your psilosynine levels are dangerously high."

"High?" Meghan blinked, noticing for the first time that her muscles were beginning to tremble. "They should be getting lower…not higher."

"I know that," he remarked testily, preparing a hypospray. "I must insist…Counselor, are you all right?"

Concern, anger, love, fear, guilt, compassion. A focused intensity of emotions like she'd never felt before crashed into her, causing Meghan to let out a low keening sound at the power of it all, only to feel it dissipate as quickly as it had appeared. Her knees buckled, and she felt the EMH reach out and support her. She was suddenly cold and shivering, despite feeling beads of sweat on her face. "D–doctor…something's wrong."

Dark spots began to fill her vision even as she felt the Doctor lay her down and press a hypospray against her neck. Alarms were going off somewhere above her head, and even though she blinked to clear her vision, the Doctor was becoming increasingly fuzzy. She realized he had been right - she should have taken a seat. Ever so slowly, her world became dark and quiet as the hologram's concerned voice faded to nothing.

For a moment everything was still.

And then that stillness was shattered like a rock thrown through a stained glass window.

"What the _hell_ have you done to her? If you've hurt her in _any_ way–"

That unmistakable voice striking through the silence was both breathtaking and frightening, and Meghan almost cringed at the sound of it.

Kathryn Janeway was livid.

But even as she considered being concerned, Meghan felt a wash of protectiveness rush over her. She reveled in the sensation. It had been a long time since she'd felt safe. It was warm and comforting, and she paused to wonder if this was how all of the _Voyager_s must feel in Kathryn's presence.

So long as her fury wasn't directed at them.

_*We did it. This is good. Bringing her here was necessary. We meant no harm. Meghan is well?* _

"Meghan…can you hear me?"

The concern in Chakotay's quiet voice caressed her mind and felt like a warm blanket being draped over her shoulders. Meghan blinked her eyes open, surprised to find the commander cradling her in his arms as he knelt next to her. As she looked into his face, he glanced up. "Kathryn."

Meghan turned her head towards where he was looking in time to see the woman in question, standing tall in front of them, turn and look down at her. Another wave of compassion and concern swept over her, and although she could also feel a splinter of fear radiating from the older woman as well, the entire sensation was comforting.

"Meghan, are you all right?" Kathryn asked, the edge of steel still evident in her voice. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm…" she paused, doing a quick mental inventory of herself and when she found she could breathe easy, she continued, "I'm fine."

Kathryn did not look convinced as she exchanged a worried glance with Chakotay.

_*Is Meghan well? She had to come. We brought her. No choice. Welcome Meghan. We are happy you are here.*_

Meghan was about to respond to the voices she thought she was hearing solely on a telepathic level, when surprising her, Kathryn beat her to it. The captain whirled away from Meghan to face the nothingness of the bright room.

"_Why_ did you bring her here? I do not want you bringing anyone else from my crew here."

_*It was necessary. No one else. Jurot missing. She had to come. We brought her. Now you can go home. Do not be mad.* _

"Why was it necessary?" Kathryn asked as Chakotay helped Meghan to her feet. "She wasn't with us on _Voyager_. She doesn't know our stories."

_*Needed bridge. Weren't sure we could. She had to come. Suder missing. We brought her. Can try to send you back now.*_

Kathryn's head cocked to the side, and she held up a hand. "Wait…are you saying you didn't know if you were going to be able to send us back?"

_*Needed Suder. Needed Jurot. Suder missing. Jurot missing. In excitement brought Janeway before bridge. Scanned ship. Found Meghan. Hard to contact. Meghan here now. Should work.*_

"_Should_?" Kathryn repeated incredulously.

"Who are Suder and Jurot?" Meghan whispered to Chakotay.

"Former members of the crew. Suder died saving the ship from the Kazon, and Jurot was killed during our incursion with the _Equinox_." He frowned. "They were both Betazoid."

Kathryn had been listening. "They needed a telepath to bridge the gap between here and the ship." She looked up, addressing the empty space. "Is that it? You needed a telepath?"

_*Yes. Meghan needed. Tuvok not suitable. Up to her. Only way. Bridge has been made. She can take you back.*_

"Whoa, wait a minute," Meghan spoke up. "_How_ do I bring us back?" For a moment there was a collective silence that made her stomach clench. "What am I supposed to do?"

_*Must desire it. We wanted Janeway. She came. She wanted Chakotay. He came. You must want to go back. You are the bridge.*_

"That's_ it_?" she asked, feeling stunned.

There was a collective shrug that did not inspire confidence.

_*Glad you came. We must go. Not our galaxy. Return home now. Happy for Voyager . Happy for Janeway. You must go. Thank you. Until next time. Be well. Take care.* _

Kathryn and Chakotay instinctively edged closer to Meghan. She stared at Kathryn, panic rising in her throat. She shook her head. "I-I don't know how to do this."

The couch, table, and tea set vanished as the brightness of the expansive white room began to dim.

"I don't think it matters," Chakotay commented, looking around.

Kathryn took Meghan's hand in hers and looked calmly into her face. "You can do this, Meghan. Just think about _Voyager_. Take us there."

Chakotay took hold of her other hand. "Feel what Kathryn and I are feeling. Everyone on _Voyager _is looking for us. Find their feelings and take us there."

The light in the room grew dimmer, and the walls of the room seemed to be moving closer. Meghan's mind raced, trying to find a foothold, something tangible that her mind could latch onto besides the now claustrophobic feel of the room.

Kathryn's hand squeezed hers reassuringly. "Take us home, Meghan. _Save_ us."

The prism of feeling that had lashed through her soul as she'd stood in sickbay flashed in her mind, and Meghan knew. All the concern and fear, all the compassion and guilt…all the love…those emotions had belonged to the crew of _Voyager_. That was the bridge. She had it. She _could_ bring Kathryn and Chakotay back to their crew.

With tears sliding down her face, Meghan threw her head back and laughed. She could save them.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimers and such can be found...throughout ;)_

* * *

"Commander! Something's happening with the distortion!" Harry's voice rang out across the bridge, breaking the silence that had been solidifying since news of Meghan's collapse in sickbay.

Tuvok got to his feet on the command deck, his eyes never leaving the viewscreen. "Report, Lieutenant."

"I think…" Harry double checked the readings the sensors were sending him. "It's moving away, sir!"

Tom looked over his shoulder, his fingers poised to make the jump to follow it.

*Doctor to Commander Tuvok. The Captain and Commander are regaining consciousness.*

"Acknowledged," Tuvok responded, his gaze still on the viewscreen, watching as the entity moved away. "What is Counselor Vance's condition?"

There was a pause before the EMH responded. *She remains unconscious.*

Tuvok looked down at Tom. "Mister Paris, set a course and follow the distortion, maintain a distance of–"

*Tuvok.*

Tom spun all the way around, a wide, hopeful grin splitting his face at the husky but utterly unmistakable voice. Tuvok ignored him and answered the hail. "Yes, Captain?"

*If that distortion ring is moving away…let it.*

Tuvok's eyebrow rose. "Aye, Captain."

The comm. line clicked off, but not before the bridge crew heard Janeway's very tired voice mutter something that sounded incredibly like "good riddance".

"Mister Paris," Tuvok started, choosing to ignore the relieved laughter that was circling the bridge, "as you were. Maintain position. Mister Kim, stand down yellow alert."

"Aye, sir," they both responded, happy to follow the given orders.

In sickbay, however, Janeway was not happy. "Doctor, I'm _fine_." She knocked his hand away as he tried to scan her. "You should be concentrating on Meghan."

The Doctor put a hand on his captain's shoulder and pushed her back down on the biobed. "The Counselor is fine. She's just unconscious."

"Doctor," Kathryn pushed back up onto her elbows, "if she's unconscious then she is _not_ fine."

"She's better than she was before, believe me," he retorted, giving up on trying to scan his captain. He considered putting the surgical arm over her to keep her still but didn't think his programming would survive that maneuver. "Her psilosynine levels are returning to normal as well as her respiratory, blood pressure, and heart rate. This is a vast improvement to what they were when she collapsed."

"But we're back. We're awake," Kathryn argued. "Why isn't she?"

Having taken advantage of the hologram's inattention, Chakotay had gotten off of his biobed completely. He'd heard and understood the fear in Kathryn's voice, and he moved to stand between her and Meghan's biobeds. "Can you wake her?"

The EMH frowned. "I can, but it's better to let her rest."

Kathryn exchanged a look with Chakotay before nodding to the Doctor. "Wake her." She raised a hand to hold off the Doctor's protest. "Just for a few minutes, then she can sleep the entire trip back to Earth."

"Fine," he grumbled, moving away from Janeway's side and preparing a hypospray with a mild stimulant, "but only for a few minutes."

Chakotay helped Kathryn slide off the bed so they were both standing over Meghan when her eyes fluttered open. She blinked several times, prompting the EMH to ask, "How do you feel?"

Meghan's tired gaze flicked quickly over all three of them before she raised an unsteady hand and gestured for Kathryn to lean closer. "You should've blown me out an airlock when you had the chance."

Kathryn gave her a lopsided smile and gripped her hand tightly. "It's still a distinct possibility."

"Thank the deities for that," Meghan muttered groggily before her eyes closed again.

"She's asleep," the Doctor huffed, monitoring the readings above the bed, "and now I must insist that the two of you do the same."

Kathryn straightened, releasing Meghan's hand, and sagged back against Chakotay. He staggered back a step before catching his balance, and she knew he must be as exhausted as she was. "Doctor, that is one order I intend to follow. I trust you'll inform Tuvok?" She received his nod. "Good. Computer, site to site transport of myself and Chakotay to my quarters."

Watching them disappear in a swirl of blue light, the EMH smiled and shook out a blanket to drape over his one remaining patient. "Score one for the EMH." He smiled to himself and then paused. "Which makes the score EMH one," he frowned and sighed, "Captain one thousand."

* * *

*Tuvok to Captain Janeway.*

Kathryn groaned, pulling herself slowly from sleep. She wouldn't say her head was pounding, but it certainly wasn't doing her any favors. Prying her eyes open, she looked blankly at the wall of her quarters. Why, oh why, was she awake? The Doctor had ordered her to sleep, and she had been more than happy to do so and had, in fact, been doing so up until a few minutes ago.

*Tuvok to Captain Janeway.*

She groaned again when she heard Tuvok's voice over the comm. line. Now she at least knew what had awoken her. But she was under doctor's orders. Surely Tuvok knew that…which unfortunately meant that he probably had a damn good reason for calling her. And that she should probably answer him.

"Just ignore it," Chakotay said his face buried against her shoulder, causing his voice to sound muffled.

"I can't," she argued unenthusiastically. "He'll call again, and then he'll come down here if I don't respond."

*Tuvok to Captain Janeway, please respond.*

"What'd I tell you?" The arm Chakotay had draped over her tightened its hold, pulling her back against his chest. He mumbled something into the pillow but she ignored him, reaching her free arm out for the comm. badge on the nightstand. "Go ahead, Tuvok."

If a Vulcan could ever sound relieved, he did. *My apologies, Captain, but you have an incoming alpha priority communication from Starfleet command.*

Sighing tiredly, she acknowledged, "Send it down here, Tuvok. I'm in no shape to come up to the bridge." She patted Chakotay's arm, and he released her so she could move from the bed.

"You want me to get up?" he asked, his eyes still closed as he rolled onto his back.

"No," she looked down at him enviously. "I'm sure whatever chewing out they want to do won't take long."

He opened one eye and looked at her. "Are you going to change clothes?"

She looked down and realized she was still wearing the blue medical smock from sickbay. "Nope. It was so damned important for them to talk to me right now; they'll get what they get."

Her desk terminal beeped, indicating the transmission was coming through, and she slowly turned towards the living room, hearing his mumbled wish of "good luck" even as she sat down at her desk. As the screen came up, she barely stopped herself from groaning at the sight of Admiral Rivers filling the screen.

"Captain Janeway," he greeted, his voice surprisingly cheerful, "I understand from your officer's report that you were successful in handling the spatial distortion, and I wanted to be the first to offer you congratulations on a job well done!"

Kathryn stared dumbfounded at the screen and only her years of training had her automatically responding with a barely audible, "Thank you, Admiral."

He waved her off. "No no, I was merely a supporting hand in your success. Believe me when I say, it's the Federation that will be thanking you. You can expect all sorts of pomp and circumstance when you arrive home."

"Oh wait, Admiral, no," Kathryn started, shaking her head, "that really isn't necessary–"

"It'll be a real hero's welcome for you," he continued, ignoring her. He leaned forward as if imparting a secret. "I also hear there just might be a promotion in it for you, as well. How does _Admiral_ Janeway sound?" He didn't wait for an answer. "We'll see you in a few days, Captain. I look forward to shaking your hand and reintroducing you to your adoring public. Rivers out."

Kathryn stared in complete shock at the Starfleet emblem that appeared on the computer screen. Blinking, she managed to look towards the bedroom and found Chakotay leaning against the doorframe, his hair sticking up in uneven tufts. "I think we came back to an alternate universe."

"Sounds to me like he just wants to be in all the publicity shots with you." He shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

"Chakotay, that man," she gestured angrily at the blank screen, "was absolutely…_foul_ to me, and now…now he thinks I'm just going to forget?"

Chakotay nodded, unsurprised. "They're offering admiral to you."

She got to her feet. "I don't _care_ about that!"

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "It's what you always wanted."

Kathryn shook her head. "No. No, what are you saying?"

He reached a hand out to her. "I'm not saying anything, Kathryn. I just think you should consider what you really want before you make any decisions."

"I don't want…that," she protested, allowing him to take her in his arms. "Not anymore. I want you."

"You have me. You will always have me," he whispered, "but now you might also have a chance to have that, too."

She didn't say anything. Standing there in Chakotay's embrace, she had everything she'd wanted for the past eight years, but Rivers' voice continued to echo in her head._ How does Admiral Janeway sound?_

_

* * *

_

They would reach Earth tomorrow, and Kathryn couldn't sleep. She'd happily found over the past few nights that she and Chakotay's more amorous pursuits were usually more than enough to tire her out, but tonight there was simply too much on her mind. When she'd slid out of bed, he'd woken and offered to walk with her, knowing that was exactly what she was going to do, but she'd just told him to go back to sleep. There was no point in them both being needlessly exhausted tomorrow.

It amazed even her just how fast she had readjusted her schedule. Despite a year of being on an "early to bed, early to rise" schedule, she'd quickly fallen back into her late night habits and coffee-fueled mornings. The sleeplessness in the middle of the night she could've lived without, but she actually did cherish the wee hours of the morning. There was just something about knowing you were still up when most other people had long since quit for the day.

Not everyone, of course. It had never been unusual to run into Tom leaving Sandrine's at two or three in the morning, or to find B'Elanna still stubbornly working on something in Engineering way past when her shift should have actually ended, but for the most part, the ship had been quiet. This night proved to be no exception as most everyone was expecting a lot of fuss the next day when they arrived on Earth. The ship was subdued, and there was a nervous anticipation in the air as no one knew quite what to expect at tomorrow's homecoming. Sadly, Kathryn included herself in that group.

The comm. traffic for the past few days had been nothing but congratulatory and optimistic, with promises of admiralty for herself and reinstated careers for her crew, but once bitten, twice shy. They'd all heard these platitudes before, and while the overdue recognition was heartwarming, it was possibly a case of too little too late. As much as Starfleet wanted to hold _Voyager_ up as an example to the Federation as a symbol of everything that was good and strong about the organization, Kathryn had her doubts.

Turning the last corner of her usual route and entering the darkened mess hall, Kathryn was only mildly surprised to find she wasn't the only person having trouble sleeping. Acknowledging Meghan with a nod of her head, she made her way over to the replicator first, ordering an herbal tea before joining the counselor near the viewport. "Mind if I join you?"

Meghan's nose crinkled, and she looked over at Kathryn's cup. "If you're drinking coffee at three in the morning, I guess I don't have to ask why you're having trouble sleeping."

Kathryn took a sip before replying, "Tea, actually." She gave Meghan a wink. "I'm hoping to still get at least an hour or two of sleep before the morning."

"It _is_ morning."

She shrugged. "What about you? Are you usually up this late…or early, if you prefer?"

Meghan shook her head. "No, but I did sleep for almost three days straight."

Retreating a bit and taking a seat on the dark couch that faced the viewport, Kathryn commented, "Ah, well, forgive me for saying so, but you don't exactly look rested."

Meghan turned, facing her. "I could say the same thing about you."

"True." She smiled slightly, toying with her mug. "But I'm not denying it."

"I haven't denied anything," Meghan retorted, defensively.

"You implied."

"Your point?"

Kathryn raised her chin and regarded the woman in front of her seriously. "I'm worried about a friend who's going through a hard time. She's recently had to confront some uncomfortable memories about a past experience, and I'm wondering how well she's coping."

Meghan blinked. "You consider me…a friend?"

Kathryn froze mid-sip and slowly lowered her drink. "Yes. If that's okay with you."

The young woman sank into the seat next to Kathryn. She didn't know quite what to say to that. "I thought Starfleet captains weren't supposed to become friends with their crew."

"I thought you were a civilian," Kathryn argued with a grin, "and in case you haven't noticed, I've kind of thrown Starfleet's rulebook out the airlock this trip."

"I did notice, actually."

"I thought you might have."

They sat in silence, both looking out at the stars, and for perhaps the first time, Kathryn actually felt herself relax in Meghan's presence. She didn't feel the need to guard her thoughts as they both seemingly contemplated their futures. As much as was unclear about hers, Meghan's plans were just as uncertain to her. Maybe Meghan didn't know what they were yet, either.

Sipping the last of her tea – which had cooled – Kathryn felt like she could actually go back to sleep and possibly salvage a couple more hours of sleep. Just as she shifted her weight to stand up, Meghan spoke.

"I cried last night."

With that quietly uttered statement, the drowsy feeling that had just started to fully descend over Kathryn evaporated in an instant. Without turning her head, her eyes shifted over to look at Meghan, who was still looking out at the stars.

"It wasn't just a few tears either. It was full-on…" she sucked in a shuddering breath. "It was the first time since…" Her voice trailed off either unable or unwilling yet to verbalize her loss.

Kathryn reached out and took her hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Meghan let out a watery chuckle. "That's usually my line."

Kathryn nodded quietly and waited.

"I just…sometimes I think…I shouldn't be here. I should have died on that station." She used her free hand to swipe under both of her eyes. "What made me so different that I lived when so many other people died?"

"I don't know," Kathryn replied honestly, "but I'm glad you did. After all, I wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't. Your presence has saved _countless_ lives." She held up a hand when Meghan tried to disagree. "Think about it. Some other counselor may have told the admirals' board that I wasn't fit to come on this mission, or another counselor may have kept information from me. You didn't. What if I had made different decisions because I didn't have all the information?" She gestured to the space beyond the viewports. "The Maquis might still be exiled. The distortion wave may still be attacking random ships. I may have been put in a padded cell. The possibilities are endless." Kathryn squeezed Meghan's hand. "You _saved_ lives simply be being who you are and by being _here_."

"When you put it like that…it sounds really good," Meghan allowed after a few minutes, "but it still hurts."

"Yes, it does," Kathryn agreed, thinking of her father and Justin and countless others she'd lost over the years including those that had fallen while under her command. More than once, she had asked the question of why she had survived and they hadn't. She still didn't have an answer. "And it probably always will, but eventually you'll notice that some days, it doesn't hurt quite as bad."

"Today isn't one of those days," Meghan whispered.

"No," Kathryn replied softly. "I wouldn't think so."

Feeling exhaustion settle deep in her bones, Meghan leaned back into the cushions casting a sidelong glance at Kathryn. "I thought I was supposed to be the ship's counselor."

"You are." Kathryn patted her hand and stood up. "But I've spent a lot of time with counselors over the past year; eventually, it rubs off. Now come on, let's get out of here so we can both get some sleep before we face tomorrow."

Accepting Kathryn's offered hand, Meghan got to her feet. "I don't think sleep is going to be a problem." They made their way towards the doors, pausing so Kathryn could recycle her cup. "Have you decided what you're going to do tomorrow?"

"As a captain, one must be prepared for any situation," Janeway answered as they headed into the corridor.

Meghan rolled her eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means…I have no earthly idea how tomorrow is going to play out."

"Yeah," Meghan replied, stepping onto the turbolift with her, "that's what I thought."

* * *

"All right, Tom. Take us down. Nice and easy."

"Aye, Captain. Landing struts extended, inertial dampeners compensating." He grinned. "San Francisco never looked so good."

As much as Janeway appreciated his sentiment, she couldn't quite bring herself to smile. Despite all the indications they'd been receiving, she still didn't know quite how she felt about their arrival, and the uncertainty was causing her stomach to clench worse than if she was about to face the Borg Queen herself. At least with her, Kathryn knew her course of action.

There was a muted thump as the ship settled onto the surface of the planet, the struts taking the full weight of the ship. Tom punched in a few commands and then announced, "And we're down. All engines secure."

"Well done, Tom," Kathryn said, getting to her feet.

"Captain," Harry called out, "we're receiving a transmission. Starfleet wants us to prepare for the disembarkation team's arrival."

Before she could ask what a disembarkation team was, three figures coalesced on the bridge, and Kathryn held up her hand to hold off Tuvok and Ayala's forward movement. "At ease, gentlemen." She glanced at the three officers, each clutching PADDs, that had just materialized on her command deck. "I think we'll let these three live."

The middle one stepped forward. "My name is Commander Lyons, press secretary for Admiral Rivers. I will be coordinating the debarkation of _Voyager'_s crew. We have a ton of press here, and we need to look our best." He paused to look around at the bridge crew. "I was under the impression that half of this crew was civilian."

Tom's lip curled up in disgust at the officious man. "We _are_."

Kathryn frowned at him in slight rebuke before answering Lyons. "Approximately half of my crew are technically civilians, yes. Why?"

"But they're in uniform," one of the other newly-arrived men blurted, still clutching his PADD tightly to his chest.

"They'll have to change into civilian attire," Lyons announced. "We can't have civilians parading around headquarters wearing uniforms."

"Now wait just a minute," Kathryn started before Chakotay nudged her in the back.

"It's okay, Captain. He's got a point." He shrugged. "We can change clothes."

Lyons barely acknowledged him. "I need Lieutenant Kim and Commander Tuvok," he said, looking around the bridge and spotting the two officers. "You two will be the first personnel off the ship. You will walk down the ramp first, followed by Captain Janeway–"

"You're having the officers get off the ship first?" Harry interrupted.

"As captain, I prefer to disembark last," Kathryn stated.

"Normally that would be your prerogative, Captain," Lyons replied snidely, ignoring Harry completely, "but these aren't exactly normal circumstances. We need this to look good for all the press that will be waiting for you at the bottom of the ramp. _You_ are the one they're here to see, not the rest of your crew." He sniffed. "Now, where is your holographic doctor? Ah, there you are. You will follow the captain down the ramp with Annika Hansen on your left and Counselor Vance on your right."

"I prefer to be addressed as Seven of Nine," she informed him coldly from her station above the command chairs.

Lyons glanced up at her. "Of course you do. Now, after that group of senior staff disembarks, the rest of the uniformed Starfleet personnel will descend, officers first, followed by crewmen. Civilians will be the last group. By that time, the majority of the crowd will have moved inside the tent for the press conference, so none of you will have to worry about dealing with questions. But if you do get asked anything, just refer them to myself or answer with no comment. Understood? Any questions? No? Good. Now let's get moving, people. We're on a schedule."

Most of the bridge crew was already standing, but no one moved. Lyons looked around appearing dumbfounded. "Come on, people. Let's get moving."

Tom folded his arms across his chest, defiantly prepared to wait Lyons out. He didn't have to wait long for the arrogant little man to turn sputtering to the captain.

"Captain, do your people think they're just going to stay here on the ship? They _can't_ do that."

"No," Kathryn drawled, her voice deceptively mild. "They're waiting for me to give the order for them to disembark. If you had ever _served_ on a starship, you would know that."

An unattractive flush crept into the commander's cheeks. "Do you plan on giving that order anytime soon?"

Chakotay stepped forward, pushing into the man's space and forcing him to retreat. "She outranks you, Commander. I _suggest_ you show her the proper respect."

The one aide that hadn't spoken yet stepped forward and timidly offered two PADDs to Kathryn. "Admiral Paris asked that I give this to you, Captain, and the second PADD contains all the details for the disembarkation."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." She accepted the PADDs and thumbed on the one from Owen. There was a short text only message on the screen. She read it, slightly amused, and thumbed it back off. "Commander Lyons."

"Yes, Captain?" he asked, stepping carefully forward.

She looked at him, one hand on her hip. "Get off my bridge, Commander."

His mouth dropped open. "You can't do–"

"Tuvok," she snapped out.

"Aye, Captain," he responded immediately, stepping down onto the command deck. "Commander, if you'll come with me."

With the Vulcan security chief standing uncomfortably close to him, Lyons threw one more glance at Janeway before grudgingly accompanying Tuvok towards the lift.

"You should've just let Tuvok shoot them," B'Elanna muttered loud enough for the two remaining aides to glance worriedly in her direction.

Kathryn smirked but scrolled through the second PADD. "Well, it seems there isn't much I can do about the uniform issue. Seven and Meghan could get away with it since they were contracted prior to this mission," she glanced at the women in question and shrugged. "Not that either of them wear the uniform anyway, but the rest of you…" She shook her head disgustedly. "Well…it's good to be back, isn't it?"

There was a light chorus of laughter around the bridge even as Janeway opened a shipwide channel and addressed the crew to let them know about the changes. "When all this is over, I know a certain farmhouse in Indiana that's going to be hosting a party, and I'm expecting all of you and your families to be in attendance. Janeway out."

"All right, people," Chakotay spoke up once she had signed off, "let's get moving. I don't think the Captain wants to face the press by herself."

"Give me the Viidians any day," she remarked, turning. "Harry, looks like you're with me."

Harry beamed. "Yes, ma'am."

Chakotay touched Kathryn's elbow, holding her back as everyone else began moving towards the lifts. She stayed, exchanging a grin with Tom as he passed before noticing that Meghan was frowning in the direction of the lifts. "Counselor?" She waited until Meghan looked at her. "What is it?"

Meghan glanced again towards the two aides that were crowding onto the lift between Wildman and Ayala. "I don't know yet." She returned her attention to Kathryn. "Ask me again in a few minutes."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow, but Meghan stalked up the ramp towards the lift. Looking around the empty bridge, Kathryn eyed Chakotay. "Looks like it's just you and me. Alone. On the bridge."

"If only we had more time," he said, only half-joking as he pulled her against him. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

She let out a nervous laugh. "No. I can't imagine what kind of position they'd possibly be willing to give me after…well after everything, but to make admiral," she sighed. "My mother would be _really_ proud."

"Your mother is proud of you regardless, Kathryn."

She took in a shaky breath. "We'll see."

"She loves you." He kissed her on the forehead and then on the lips. "And _I_ love you."

She kissed him back. "Even if I make admiral?"

He laughed and rubbed her back. "Even if."

She nodded, reveling in his strength before summoning her own. "Let's do it."

* * *

Applause reverberated in the hastily-erected press suite, making it sound doubly loud and distorted as Janeway walked to the podium. Flashes from the news services holocameras added to the chaos and feeling of disorientation. She had to blink several times as she looked out over the gathering of mostly press and upper Starfleet echelon types. So much had happened in the past twenty minutes that she was still trying to mentally catch up and process it all.

The only problem was that no one was giving her the five seconds she needed to do so.

As soon as she and Harry had stepped off the ramp together, Harry had been unceremoniously pushed to the side while it seemed that every desk-riding officer from Headquarters had clamored to have their picture taken with her. As the mob of people had carried her towards the press suite, people had shaken her hand, offered her book deals, implied jobs she could pursue, and one had even asked her out on a date. It was as if everyone present had forgotten the entire year's events.

She had tried looking around for her crew, but she'd seen no sign of them until the press had finally been pushed away to be seated. The small area behind the stage had been curtained off and Kathryn, finding herself accompanied by several admirals, some of which she recognized and some she didn't, had tried to find out what exactly was on the agenda. Was she expected to speak? What details of the mission were classified? Had her crew disembarked yet?

But then Meghan had appeared in front of her.

"_They aren't letting civilians inside the press area," the young counselor said urgently._

"_Good. This is already more of a circus than I ever wanted to be a part of," Kathryn replied, distracted as she watched the group of admirals sneaking glimpses of her and obviously talking about her. She straightened her tunic and realized Meghan was looking at her like she had grown antlers. "What?"_

_Meghan's eyes narrowed at her in disbelief. "The _Maquis_ are considered civilians."_

_Complete understanding dawned on Kathryn and, taking hold of Meghan's arm, she pulled the counselor away from the nearest group of people and lowered her voice. "What's your source?"_

"_The two aides on the bridge thought about it, and then I made sure I was near enough to Pernsen to confirm it when a reporter asked about the Maquis members of the crew." Her face showed her clear disgust with the man. "He was practically salivating at the idea of being able to turn them away."_

_Kathryn thought of Owen's message to her and her temper simmered dangerously. "Find Chakotay and make sure none of them leave." She eyed the milling admirals, looking for one in particular. "I'll take care of this, or there won't be any reason at all to have the press here."_

It had only taken a few harsh words with some unknown rear admiral to make Admiral Nechayev appear at Janeway's side, insisting they lower their voices before demanding to know what the problem was. After a quick explanation, and the implied threat of noncooperation from Kathryn herself, Nechayev had barely even balked. She'd simply stated that she would take care of the matter and that, by the time Kathryn took the podium, her entire crew would be in attendance.

As she looked up from the podium now, she found that Alynna had been as good as her word. The crew of _Voyager_, both uniformed and not, comprised the entire back half of the audience. Almost all of them were standing as there was very little seating, but it made her breathe easier to see them there. She glanced to the left side of the stage and gave Nechayev an appreciative nod.

She had to give her thanks now because, in a few minutes, Nechayev, who was one of the staunchest admirals in Starfleet, may never choose to speak to her again. Kathryn returned her attention to the crowd in front of her and felt the slightly heavier rank bar lay flat against her throat. It was what she had wanted for so many years, but now the weight of it felt more akin to a boulder. A boulder that was tied to her feet and dragging her inescapably underwater, issuing a silent promise to hold her there until she drowned.

Needless to say, the moment of her promotion had not been like anything she had ever dreamed.

_Owen Paris stepped up to the podium, and the cordial aide from the bridge signaled to Kathryn that it was time for her to make her way to the stage. The admirals that were still milling about backstage all turned to watch her, most smiling and congratulating her. One that she had never met before stepped forward and shook her hand. "Forgive and forget, eh, Captain__…__or should I say, Admiral?"_

_He'd winked and patted her on the back as she'd moved past him, but a cold feeling had started to build in the pit of her stomach. As Owen announced her name, she ascended the short flight of stairs in a daze, still thinking of the man's words to her. Admiral Rivers approached her as Owen ran through a laundry list of her accomplishments, and she realized she was getting a medal honoring her service. _

"_You're doing great, Janeway," Rivers told her quietly as he pinned the medal to her jacket. "Just keep playing nice, and you'll be on your extended vacation in no time."_

_Turning towards the cameras, he shook her hand and kept on smiling. Kathryn felt like she had just been slapped in the face as all the pieces from the past several days fell into place. At the sound of applause, her attention ricocheted back to the stage, and she saw a Fleet admiral she'd only ever seen on news vids approach her, carrying in his hand the small box that held her new admiral rank bar. She thought she might start hyperventilating._

"_This really is an exceptional thing you're doing," he commented as he casually removed her four pips. "Our enlistment rates will triple after this bit of PR." He affixed the rank bar on her collar. "Congratulations, Admiral."_

_The rank bar was a cold, heavy weight that moved against her throat as she swallowed thickly. The holocamera flashes popped in front of her as the admiral pushed her captain pips into her hand and then stood beside her for more pictures. _

_Owen was beaming at her from the podium. "Allow me to be the first to introduce you to _Admiral_ Kathryn Janeway."_

The crowd had quieted as she'd stood at the podium, waiting expectantly for her to speak, but she took another moment. A long moment to scan the back of the room, making eye contact with all one hundred twenty nine members of her crew that had taken this last journey with her. Most looked extremely happy for her, but the ones that knew her well appeared cautious, tentative, and she knew despite her efforts, they at least could see her mounting discomfort. Only Chakotay's dark eyes were steady, holding hers and never once wavering. Warmth filled her chest, and she finally knew what it was she wanted to say.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," she said to the side of the stage where the council of admirals stood, "for this…honor. It means…a great deal to me." She looked down before continuing. "A few days ago, one of you asked me how I liked the sound of 'Admiral Janeway'. I have to admit," she conceded, scanning her audience again. "I thought it sounded pretty good."

There was a good-natured murmur of laughter in the audience.

"It's a title I strived for my _entire_ life," she stated emphatically, becoming serious again. "It's the rank my father held…before he died. Unfortunately, he…like so many others, died in the line of duty. He died in the service of something greater than himself…and that made it…okay. That made his sacrifice, as well as the sacrifice of my family, _worthwhile_." She paused, taking a breath to steady herself. "I received a message today from a dear friend. It said 'time heals all wounds'." She swallowed before continuing, "Unfortunately, that's not all it said. It also told me to keep hold of my temper and to just get through today's proceedings."

A few people on the edge of the stage as well as in the audience shifted uncomfortably.

Having completely regained her composure, Janeway looked again to the admirals gathered at the end of the stage. "I'm sorry, Owen, but I'm not ready to make nice just yet."

The whir of the press crews' holocameras seemed to intensify.

"Over the past year, I've had a lot of time to think. I've thought about the lives that were lost under my command. I've thought about mistakes I've made in my life, both personal and professional. And I wondered what my father would think of me? Would he be ashamed? I was sitting in a prison cell, if you care to remember, and I doubt that was the future he'd imagined for me." She shook her head. "But I'm through with doubting myself because the conclusion I came to was that I don't believe it's _me_ my father would've been ashamed of."

She glanced out at the crowd, and while the front row of upper echelon had looks of confusion and disapproval on their faces, most of her crew was smiling at her. Their open show of devotion gave her the last bit of support she needed.

"For me to accept this hollow promotion, I would be dishonoring all of those who have served this organization proudly, and I won't do that." She took the rank bar off and placed it on the podium. "To the admirals' council, I regret to inform you that I do not accept this promotion, and I hereby resign my commission in Starfleet, effective immediately."

Rivers stepped forward, his face darkening with rage, as he moved towards her. "How _dare_ you? You ungrateful bitc–"

"Hey!" Tom called out in warning from the back of the room.

But it hadn't been necessary. Rivers had stopped himself when he'd realized Kathryn hadn't been backing away from him. Her feet were braced and her shoulders were squared, but what had frozen him to the spot and choked off his words mid-sentence had been the ice-cold glare she had focused directly on him.

"Did you really think I'd be your puppet, Rivers?" she asked coldly. Loudly enough for all of the audience to still hear her. "You _exiled_ my crew and put me in prison for a _year_. Then you sent me on a suicide mission. So tell me, exactly what part of that am I supposed to be grateful for?"

She raised her voice to address the other admirals still clustered on the stage. "If Starfleet is willing to promote me simply to engender good public relations and boost recruitment efforts, then you have lost your way. You have become an organization without principles. I'm _glad_ my father died before he had to bear witness to what has become of Starfleet." She locked eyes with Nechayev, Owen, Garcia, and the fleet admiral she didn't know. "You were once a noble organization that valued its officers and crewmen. I hope, for your sake, you will learn to do so again, but I refuse to give another day of _my_ life to you. I have more important things to do."

Kathryn turned and walked to the edge of the stage, ignoring the explosion of questions from the press. Chakotay and most of her crew were already waiting for her. She looked over them and took Chakotay's hand. "Let's go home."


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Kathryn brushed the excess dirt off her hands and pushed herself to her feet. Rolling her shoulders and stretching out her aching back, she admired her handiwork. Everything in the garden was sprouting and growing just as it should. The corn was already waist high, the tops of the radishes were looking delightfully leafy, and the tomatoes seemed to be perking up nicely after yesterday's rain shower.

Keeping one hand on the back of her neck, rubbing at her tired muscles, she turned to look towards the center of their colony. She smiled, seeing Chakotay clearing the last hill as he returned from overseeing the unloading of the supply ship. Gathering up her gardening tools, she went inside their home to fix a cold drink for both of them.

After eight months, the house was almost completely finished and the colony, which had almost doubled in size, was thriving. They still didn't have all the amenities they would have had if they'd stayed on Earth, but they made do. Taking two glasses of chilled water with her, Kathryn made her way back out to the porch just as Chakotay reached the edge of what they laughingly called their front lawn. Grass was a terra-forming project they were still working on.

He kissed her on the cheek in greeting and gratefully accepted the drink, finishing half of it one swallow. "Tom and B'Elanna came back today."

"I thought they weren't due back until next week," she commented, eyeing the rucksack he'd taken off his shoulders and purposefully set down out of her reach.

"They said Miral was getting too spoiled staying with her grandparents." He shrugged. "Personally, I think B'Elanna just couldn't wait to get back to her project. She may have wanted a break, but the challenge of getting those hydroprocessors working is just too much for her to ignore."

"I'm sure Owen was disappointed," she said, snatching her drink off the table between them when he began eyeing it. "So, what else did you pick up?"

"Nothing much really," he drawled, nudging the rucksack with the toe of his boot. "Just some gossip." He frowned at his empty glass and made a show of getting the last drop from it. "But I didn't really pay much attention to it."

Kathryn narrowed her eyes at him and grudgingly slid her still mostly full glass over to him. He laughed, taking the glass off the table before sliding the rucksack towards her. She grabbed it and began digging into it, pulling out three data PADDs and the brown paper wrapped package she had been hoping for. Holding it up to her face, she inhaled deeply, savoring the faint aroma of coffee seeping out of it. Sighing happily, she hugged it to her chest. "I better go put this in stasis."

"You don't want to look at the PADDs?" he asked nonchalantly when she had almost reached the door.

She turned back. "I thought they were just your inventory lists."

He shook his head, grinning. "No, I left those back at the cargo bay."

Looking at them with a bit more interest, she asked, "Then what are they?"

"Just a couple of communiqués." His dimples were showing as his grin grew wider. "And a copy of the recent FedNews."

Kathryn returned to the table, still cradling her coffee supply. "What are you grinning about?"

"Nothing."

Her eyes narrowed at his obvious lie, and she picked up the first one on the stack. "Oh, it's from Mom. She's going to come out and see us now that we have a finished roof over our heads." She laughed at a couple of other things as she quickly scrolled through the letter. "She wants to know when she's going to see a grandchild."

"You can reply and tell her we're working on it," he winked.

Kathryn laughed, setting the PADD down and reaching for the next one. "I'll tell her we practice all the time."

"I'm sure your sister would give us pointers if you tell her that."

She crinkled her nose at him and thumbed on the next PADD. "This one's from Meghan. Oh!" She looked up at Chakotay, "She says she's met someone. He's assigned to the Starfleet security force on Betazed." She laughed out loud. "Meghan says he won't let her get away with anything. He tells her that he isn't a mind reader and that she has to tell him what she's thinking and feeling."

Chakotay smiled, genuinely happy for the young counselor, but he was really looking forward to seeing Kathryn's reaction when she got to the third PADD.

She saw him watching her and really wanted to prolong his anticipation by not reading it right away, but her own curiosity wouldn't allow her to wait a minute longer. Activating it, her mouth dropped open at the headline.

* * *

**STARFLEET ADMIRAL INDICTED ON MULTIPLE CHARGES**

Starfleet Admiral Hal Rivers was indicted Monday on charges of fraud, conspiracy, and conduct unbecoming an officer. The details of the case have not yet been released, but it has been made clear that these charges are the result of a months-long investigation.

A statement by Admiral Alynna Nechayev hinted that the abrupt departure of Kathryn Janeway eight months ago, following a successful mission and promotion to admiral, initiated the probe. "One of Starfleet's founding principles is moral virtue and the betterment of mankind. It was brought to our attention in recent months that we as an institution have faltered in this endeavor. It is our intention to continually evaluate ourselves so that transgressions such as those Hal Rivers is accused of will not go undetected. We must police ourselves before we can expect more of others."

* * *

Kathryn stared dumbfounded at the PADD for so long that Chakotay slid it out of her hand. She looked up to see him still grinning widely. "I think Starfleet might've taken your words to heart."

"I…I don't…I can't…can you…" She was at a complete loss for words, causing Chakotay to laugh out loud.

"I'm sure Rivers sounded something like that when they arrested him," he joked, and Kathryn hit him in the chest.

"It's not funny," she told him, smothering a grin as she got to her feet.

"Of course not," he smirked. "Not funny at all. Couldn't have happened to a nicer man."

Kathryn's eyes grew wide at that before she burst out laughing. "Oh…I would've loved to have seen the look on his face…"

"I'm just glad I got to see the look on _your_ face."

She tried sobering and was only mildly successful. "It really isn't funny."

Chakotay shrugged. "I think it's a good thing, actually. It means they really are looking into their problems. They might just start fixing some things that have been broken for a long time."

"True," she agreed, pulling him out of his chair and settling her hands on his hips. "I hope they succeed, and even though I may have started it, I hope they leave me out of it."

"Really?" he asked, a bit surprised.

"Really." She nodded and smiled up at him. "I don't need to go meddling around in all that. I've got plenty of stuff here that I need to work on."

He ran his hands down her back, holding her close. "What kind of stuff?"

"There's my garden."

"Unh huh."

They had begun slightly swaying as they stood together. "And that project of B'Elanna's."

"Of course."

"And then there's always that request of my mother's."

He smiled. "You mean the one we need to practice for?"

She nodded. "Yep. Lots and lots of practice."

"Lots, huh?" he repeated. "Well then, we should probably get started."

She put her arms around his neck. "If we start practicing now, we'll miss the sunset."

He glanced over her head at the setting sun and then scooped her into his arms, smiling at her surprised yelp. "There'll be another one tomorrow."

~ the end ~

* * *

_Author's notes: Thank you! Thank you all so very much for sticking with me and giving me such wonderful feedback. It was most appreciated. This story actually started out as part of the VAMB 2009 Secret Drabble exchange. The scene I wrote for that was much shorter and only focused on the press conference. Writing that, I had dribs and drabs of the whole backstory as to why she was giving a press conference like that. And then this became the result. Slightly different but same outcome._

_My other source of inspiration while writing this was the Dixie Chicks song by the same name, Not Ready to Make Nice. I can't really picture Janeway bursting out in country twang, but the attitude behind the music was applicable. ;) So thanks again to QS and Maja for being wonderful betas. And thanks to you, the reader! Hope you enjoyed it!_


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